


The Vodka Made Me Do It

by Hermitstull



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-30 07:43:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 150
Words: 124,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1015956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hermitstull/pseuds/Hermitstull
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drables and random bits that don't fit into any of the other saga's I've written. Some are stand alone one shots, others are story ideas that didn't go anywhere. Since my computer is shaky, thought I'd get it all up somewhere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Vissi d'arte

They had been chasing the artifact for days now throughout Rome.  As soon as they had been on the trail of John Falstaff’s favorite goblet, narrowly missing the artifact each time they had tracked it to a local tavern on wine garden.

Helena was nearly at her wits end, thinking that perhaps she should have taken more time off from the Warehouse after the tragic events of the prior year. She could see William’s concerned looks as she questioned witnesses to the goblet’s whereabouts.

It was mid January and the weather was unseasonably mild. HG had left Mr. Wolcott at the inn, needing a few quiet moments alone. Walking the streets, she couldn’t help but reflect on her current state of affairs. Christina gone, the men responsible still at large, the mysterious gap in Sophie’s memory and her use of Kempo.

Night had fallen when HG found herself in front of a crowded Teatro Costanzi.  It seemed there was premiere tonight of a new opera by Puccini. Helena had seen La Boheme at Covent Garden a two seasons ago and enjoyed it immensely.

An usher was making his way through the crowd announcing the start of the second act. Helena slipped into the crowd and joined the mass in the standing room only section.  Italian was one of the artificer’s strongest languages and she easily followed along with the story set some 100 years prior.

She didn’t realize she was crying until after she had made her way outside.  One aria had shattered her well constructed walls. 


	2. Over you

It was only a matter time, she supposed, that she found someone new. One too many times away on a mission for the Regents, one missed phone call too many, one too many holidays missed.

Her visits to the Bed and Breakfast had grown less and less, until almost a year had passed since she’d set foot on the place she once called home. After all that they’d been through, she’d supposed being together would have been the easiest part. But she’d been so very wrong.

“I’m tired,” she’d said, her green eyes looking older than her years. “Tired of the worrying, of the fighting, of trying to be enough. We’ve changed, I’ve changed.” She swallowed. “I’m over you.”

She’d left the next day, not knowing what to say and not knowing how to be enough for the woman she’d once loved.

Pete had been the one to call her, to let her know about the wedding .About the new agent who’d come in to replace Claudia when she’d become the Caretaker. Who had slowly, but surely, worked through Myka’s armor and won her heart.

But she already knew, turning the invitation over and over in her hands. Setting the envelope down, she opened the locket, looking at the faces of her two great loves. Myka had been right -you can’t run from truths you can’t hide.


	3. I Dreamed a Dream

“Please,” Helena begged the foreman. “Please, I have a little girl!”

The man turned a deaf ear on her plea, slamming the factory door in her face. She felt a despair that knew no bounds.  Endless darkness stretched before her. There was no way that she could afford to pay the owners of the bed and breakfast to take care of her Christina now.

She sank down into the dirty cobblestone street, weeping openly. There was only one avenue left for her now. The only thing she could do to in the hopes of giving her beloved daughter a better life.

She had so many dreams for her Christina, for herself. That fateful summer where she had met a dashing young man and was swept up in the grandeur of first love. She had spent the summer by his side, exploring a world of endless wonder. And the result of those glorious months had resulted her loss of innocence but had given her Christina.

Helena still held onto the dream that someday Peter would return to take her out of the world of misery that she found herself in. And her life would be so different from this hell she was living. But the practical side knew that this was only a pipe dream. That the kind of love she had was now gone from her life.

She sighed, running a shaky hand through her dark hair. Gathering her strength she slowly pulled herself from the ground. Squaring her shoulders, she headed for the small room at a nearby boarding house. She was paid through the month. If she couldn’t find another factory job, she would resort to a move to the other side of town.

In her grief she didn’t notice the keen green eyes of the mayor following her every move. 


	4. The woman is lovely, is always lovely

“Who are you people?” 

“Good guys who do bad things.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” sigh, “that we do what has to be done.”

“Cryptic much?”

Silence

“Ma’am, we’ve got a fix. We know where we are now.”

“Thank the Fates. How long till we jump?”

“Setting the coordinates now. Should be good to go in a few minutes.”

“Excellent.”

Silence.

“You’re hurt.”

“And what told you that?”

“You sarcasm. And whatever you call blood that’s currently staining my carpet.”

Chuckle. “We’ll I’ve really managed to ruin your day haven’t I? Blood is a bitch to get out.”

“Hold on. Try not to bleed over something else.”

Silence.

“Hold still, this might sting.”

“You don’t have to do that you know. I have people that will take care of this when I get back.”

“Nonsense. You did save me from that thing. It’s the least I can do.”

“You right, it does sting.”

“Shall I kiss it and make it all better?”

Pause.

“Well you’re a bold one. Shouldn’t we at least go to dinner first?”

Nervous laugh. “It’s an expression…”

“I know what it is. I might not be from around here but this isn’t my first visit.”

Silence.

“There, all done.”

“Nice job. This will hold till I get back.”

“Good.”

“Ma’am, we’re just about ready.”

“Thank you. I’ll be out in a bit.”

“So that’s it then?”

“I suppose. This was an accident. I’m sorry about the damage.”

“It’s okay. I was planning on redecorating anyway.” Pause. “You’re not going to erase my memories or anything are you?”

“That’s not the way we operate.”

“Good.”

“Well, thank you again.”

 

Outside.

Sigh. “Every time we run into her this happens.”

“I know. You’d think they’d just sort it out.”

“Or she’d pick one and settle down.”

“Twenty says we come back.”

“You’re on.”

Shake.

“Gentlemen are you ready?”

“Yes ma’am.”

The sound of a machine warming up. 

“Setting jump coordinates ma’am.”

 

He looks up from his screen when no reply is given, grinning as he sees the commander sharing a heated embrace with the woman from this planet. The woman is lovely, is always lovely, with eyes that remind him of the ancient grass planes of his home world.

He looks over at his friend who is shaking his head.

She might be the one.

Damn, he should have made it fifty.

The commander’s brown eyes dance and she rejoins the team, her dark hair swirling as the portal opens.

“Let’s go home.”


	5. Like a willow I can bend

It was retro night. She hated retro night. Her roommates Steve and Pete had assured her that Wednesday night was just a regular night at the bar. 

After another twenty something floated by in a shawl and skirt she turned to glare at Pete. 

“What Mykes?” He said, sipping his iced tea. “It’s fun. Try to loosen up and have a good time.”

“These people weren’t even ALIVE when this song was a hit,” Myka pointed out, accepting the drink Steve handed her. 

“Are you kidding?” Steve shook his head. “Stevie Nicks is timeless.”

“And a witch,” Pete added. “I heard she was a white witch.”

“You spend way too much time on the internet,” Myka smiled. 

“What can I say, I get bored at my desk. Oh pretzels.” Pete reached behind his friend for the full bowl behind her.

 

After an hour or so, Myka had to admit retro night was kind of fun. There were songs from the past twenty years of music, even a few she’d enjoyed as a kid. Pete and Steve had wandered off, chatting with a red head named Claudia about Dr. Who or some other show they loved.

“Man, what is it with all the Stevie Nicks tonight,” Myka said to herself, checking the time on her phone. The DJ had played almost every song that she knew from the singer’s  
catalog.

“I afraid that’s my fault,” a female voice caused her head to jerk up. “My brother is the DJ tonight and he knows my love for her.”

“It’s okay,” Myka gave a crocked smile. “I have Crystal Visions at home.”

“Really,” the other woman smirked. “A fan then?”

“Something like that.” 

A roar went through the crowd, as Hole’s version of Gold Dust Woman began to play.

“Nice choice going with the cover,” Myka held out her hand. “Myka Bering.”

“Helena Wells,” Myka felt a spark when the other woman took the appendage, “fellow fan.” She leaned it closer. “You know they say that Miss Nicks is a witch?”

“Do tell.”


	6. My Ship of Hopes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A voice change for an future angst AU I posted up on Tumblr.

In the movies, especially the sad ones, seems like they tell you when the bad things are gonna happen. When the good guy is gonna get hurt, or the side kick is going to die saving the day, or when the girlfriend or boyfriend is going to say goodbye for good.

Sometimes I wish life was like that. I wish you knew those things were gonna happen. Mom used to say that life is better than the movies, cause you never know what’s gonna happen.

And Mom, she’s old, older than she looks and she knows lots of stuff. So I believed her.

Uncle Pete used to say the same thing. That surprise adds the spice to life.  Whatever spice that is.

Aunt Claudia told me that the internet knows all and that with the right program you can get a good idea for the future thanks to the stuff she writes.  But I think that’s only when you’re looking at the computer.

Stevie told me that you have to look inside yourself to find some secret hidden deep inside you that tells you about what’s gonna happen. It sounded kinda painful so I didn’t ask more.

But maybe I should have, cause otherwise I might have been able to guess what happened. Everyone is crying. I’m crying, cause my ma isn’t coming back.  Something about a bag gone wrong.  Mom tried to tell me what happened but she was crying to hard.

I was crying hard too, so I don’t know quite why Ma won’t be back. She promised me we’d start The Black Cauldron or The White Mountains when she came back from her trip with Uncle Pete.  She always picked the best books. Growing up with Grandpa helped with that.

I know that bad stuff can happen. But I just wish I knew when it would so I could be ready. And I could tell Ma that I love her one more time before she left. 


	7. It’s become the crux of me, I wish that I could rise above it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's an angst two fer. This time form Myka's perspective.

She had built her reputation as a careful observer.  Someone who could watch from the sidelines, taking in the small details that others overlooked to paint a picture that rest didn’t see. It made her successful in her life before the Warehouse. It saved her butt countless time since she found herself standing on a pile of cow manure begging for a transfer back to DC.

But it had been many years since that Myka Bering walked the Earth. She’d liked to think that time spent with the Warehouse team had put that woman to bed.  The skills though, to see the small details, those were with her for the rest of her days.

And as she sat on her unofficial/somewhat stalkery stakeout in Boone, Wisconsin Myka wished she could ignore the details.

Helena picking up Adelaide from middle school, a bright smile on her face as the young girl told her about the pre-teen exploits she and her friends shared.

Helena and Nate at a quite dinner, celebrating their anniversary and the smile she thought was once only for her.

The mix of pride and happiness that Helena tried to downplay as she received a commendation from the Mayor of Boone for her work on a complex case that had drawn national attention.

The sadness that she only let out on the anniversary of Christina’s birth; the barely suppressed rage on the day of Christina’s death.

It was those details, all of those small indicators that Helena truly had left the Warehouse behind that became unbearable. Her secret trips to Boone, once a common occurrence, became less and less as the overwhelming evidence came in.

When the cancer came back many years later, she didn’t even think to call Helena, despite Claudia’s insistence.  When she found out that the options were limited, she ignored Artie’s grumbling. When the doctors told her that the last round of Chemo hadn’t worked, she fell asleep during Pete’s ‘no time like the present’ speech.

Myka missed Helena’s hand tremor when Claudia texted her.  She didn’t observe the stiff posture or her distance from her Boone connections after Artie’s call. And she never witnessed Helena’s collapse the day Pete showed up on her doorstep with an envelope and small package, face red and eyes brimming with tears.

The devil was in the details. And he was the greatest trickster of all. 


	8. And it hurts with every heartbeat

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“I have to try.”

Pete sighed. He had known Helena most this life. When she got an idea in her head, it was very difficult to change her mind.

“Look, I know thought she was your ‘ever after’,” he began, “I get that. I love her too, but she’s not the person we know anymore. She’s changed. You’ve changed.  She’s with Sam now.”

“And they are to be married in three days,” Helena sighed. “It’s a mistake. He’s a mistake.”

“It’s hers to make HG.”

And it hurt, cut so deeply she wondered if she’d ever recovered. The 13 year relationship had ended on amicable terms. The still met for coffee from time to time, sharing limited information about their single lives. Pete had let her know that Myka was back on the market in a big way.

Helena was a little more reticent to give her heart up again.

“If you don’t want to go to the wedding,” Pete offered.

“No,” she swallowed roughly. “I will go. And I will be happy for her.”

“And secretly hope they divorce?” he said with a grin.

“Fervently.”

“Me too.”


	9. Lubbock, TX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A brief comment fic based on a Myka image that came across tumblr last night. Fluffy.

When the topic of natural beauty came up in casual conversation Lubbock, TX was never mentioned.  A flat and dusty mid-sized college town in the middle of oil country didn’t inspire volumes of poetry about natural wonder.

As Myka watched another stunning sunrise through the window of their cheap hotel she could envision many of the words she’d read throughout her life. The vibrant mix of oranges and reds as they overtook the violet and blue of the night, the light dancing off the high clouds on a crisp November morning…yes, the words were possible.

But even the striking sunrise couldn’t compare to the soft light slowly making its way across her lover’s body.  The soft glow illuminating all of the nooks and crannies she’d spent hours worshiping. The light bruises and scratches that she’d created while she worked.  Helena’s hair seeming even darker despite the growing light.

It was that beauty that brought forth the words describing natural beauty of a different kind. Ones that she never thought she’d get to speak. And could wait to again once the sun had fully risen. 


	10. We're both convicted criminals of thought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The things we think of at night...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the start of a PWP that may or may not ever be completed, so I'm putting this here. Because if there was ever a fic fueled by the power of vodka, this is it.

Myka awoke with a gasp covered in sweat about 20 minutes before the alarm was set to go off.   She rolled to her back and sighed, thinking of the x rated dream she’d just experienced.

It was a cliché for sure, but she couldn’t keep the enigmatic Helena Wells from invading her unconscious thoughts.

But it had never gone ‘there’ until the past couple of nights.

The question was, she thought, slipping her hands into her damp underwear; would she ever make those dreams a reality?

 

Unbenounced to Myka, Helena had awoken in quite a similar state.  She pushed a dark bang from her sweaty forehead, trying to forget the vivid image of a bobbing head full of dark brown curls from her mind. She could still feel the pleasant tingle of orgasm pulsing through her body.

She glanced over at the clock. There was still time before she had to get up. She reached over to the night stand, pulling open the drawer.

 

 

“Everything okay?” Pete asked, looking up from his clipboard. They were in Tolkien 344-C enjoying the endless wonder of inventory. “You seem a bit, I don’t know, tense.”

“I’m fine,” Myka glanced over at her partner/best friend. She was now on day five of five with nights filled with erotic dreams of HG Wells without retrieval in sight to break the streak. 

“I’m getting a weird vibe,” Pete continued. 

“About me?”

“Sort of,” Myka gave Pete her full attention.  For the first time in their long partnership she realized he was embarrassed.

“Just say what you have to say,” Myka pushed.

“Okay.” He sighed. “Ever since HG came back the tension between you two is off the charts.”

“I’m fine with Helena. She’s back. The Warehouse is glad. I’m glad, so we’re…”

“The sexual tension.” Pete cut her off. “We’ve gone from Red Shoe Diaries to Hustler here Mykes and it's wigging me out.”

“Oh.”

 

 

“Can you hand me the wrench again?” HG asked from beneath one of the Gooery machines. “I think I’ve found the problem.”

“Here you go,” Claudia leaned pulled the item from the toolbox and slid it to her friend.

A short silence followed, only broken by the artificer’s grunts as she worked on the machine.

“So,” Claudia began, “how are things between you and Myka?”

HG paused her work under the machine, her brain pulling forth images from her most recent dreams involving the other agent bent over her favorite chair in the Warehouse library as she took her from behind.

With her strap on.

“Fine,” she bit out, pushing those thoughts from her head.

“Are you sure,” Claudia asked. She and Pete had a meeting of the minds a couple of days ago. The vibes they were getting from their gal pals were disconcerting.  The normal level of ‘will they or won’t they’ tension that had always been there seemed to skyrocket in the past week. HG had been back for about a month from her self imposed exile in Boone.  Claudia, Pete, Steve and even Abigail had taken bets on how long it would take their friends to come to their senses.

Instead Myka and HG had made things awkward with a tension filled dance they always seemed to do around the other. Until now.

Now the tension was definitely worse. Because thinking about basically your older sister hooking up with one of your mentors was just too weird. And constantly being reminded of the weirdness every day, at various times throughout the aforementioned day, was getting to be too much for everyone to handle.

But Pete, as promised, had his talk with Myka the other day so now it was her turn.

“So no, say, repressed feelings to push Myka up against a flat surface or anything?”

HG sighed and slid out from underneath the machine.  Claudia continued in a rush.

“BecauseitsureseemslikeyouneedtogetitonwithMykaasapifnotsoonerwhichistotallyokaywithmeandallofusactually.”

HG smirked. “Thank you for your seal of approval.”

“Anytime.”


	11. The Sunset

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today had an absolutely beautiful sunset so I felt inspired by it and The Fountain by Future Islands on repeat. So here’s a bit of comment fic on another magical sunset from last year used as inspiration. Be warned, it’s fluffy set in a happy future.

You roll the window down; letting the cool breeze blow your dark hair back over your shoulder. The old pick up rattles and shakes as you make your way across the field so you turn the radio off and enjoy the almost quite. You’re chasing the sunset, heading home from a long day ready to lay your weary body down.

It’s not the life you’d thought you lead far away from the busy cobblestone streets of your home where you kept people-and later secrets-safe.  You thought that you could never adjust to South Dakota, but you did.  You never thought you embrace endless wonder, but you held it close. So close that you had to let it go for a time for it overwhelmed you.   

You spent your time away, first under the sway of darkness, then in so much pain you felt a bit insane.

And you suppose that for many years you were dead on the inside. Later you learned there was a reality where you life had been completely extinguished.

But thankfully that reality isn’t the one you live in. And the person you one were was buried long ago.

You stop the truck to open the gate, taking a moment to look up at the fading sky. The sun is just about to sink below the horizon, casting a brilliant reflection on the streaks of clouds overhead.  Fall is definitely on its way.

As you close the gate you feel your breast pocket vibrate.  You don’t even look at the number before you answer.

“I’m on my way.”

You smile as she reminds you to stop at the small store on the way home to pick up a few things for breakfast tomorrow.

“Of course,” you grin at her words.

“I love you too darling. I’ll see you soon.”


	12. Dying is easy, I believe my love and my love relieves me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I love you but I've chosen darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bering and Wells set in the Omega Man version of I Am Legend by Richard Matheson.

“Come now Bering,” the sun had just set, so of course, she was here. “Must we do this every night?”

You sigh and continue your dinner.

“I saw that you visited the Library recently,” the seductive voice calls. “More of the French Romanticism poets were missing.  Are you feeling lonesome?

Myka gritted her teeth, dropping the silverware on her plate, appetite lost. She shoved the chair back roughly and made her way to the liquor cabinet.  It was going to be one of those nights, she could already tell.

She could hear the sound of others outside, moving beyond the barbed steel fence.  After taking a swig of the cheap whisky, she set the glass down roughly.

It would be a mistake to look outside. She should just turn on the floodlights and be done with it.

“Darling the sun has completely set,” her voice called. “Yet the lights are not on.”

Myka’s head rested against the wall next to the breaker.  She was so tired. So tired of the emptiness, the weight of being the last human left on Earth.  Those things, those monsters outside that only came out at night, they were not people.

Even if one of them wore the face of her Helena.

She shouldn’t look.

“Myka,” Helena’s voice rang through the quiet, “my love, shall I come up?”

Her hand resting on the switch, Myka pulled back the curtain to the second story window.  Through the bars and cracked glass she could make out the slender form of her wife standing on top of the burned out Charger parked in front of her place.  There were others out there as well, friends, coworkers, neighbors, people who she had seen every day for years.

But the virus came.  She was immune.

They were not.

And those same friends, those same neighbors, had taken over the city wiping out any non infected survivor until only one remained.

“Join us my love,” Helena called. “Let me in and we can be together once more. Step into the light with me.”

Calls of join us began to fill the empty streets.

Despite the dark, Myka met Helena’s black eyes.

“I love you,” she replied loudly, flipping on the floodlights. The flock around the charismatic leader fled in pain. Helena remained, the light searing her skin.

“But I’ve chosen darkness.”

Their eyes remained locked until Helena finally jumped down from the car when her skin begins to blister.

Myka let the curtain fall back into place, grabbing her whiskey and draining the glass.  She pulled the bottle down from the cabinet and set it on a small table next to her reading chair.

Ignoring the threats and jeers that now came from the street below; she flipped through her record collection. Nodding, she puts the worn vinyl on the player and sits back in her favorite chair.

The one Helena restored for her as a birthday gift.

She closed her eyes as the opening movement of Sibelius’s Lemminkainen Suite filled the apartment, drowning out the cries from outside.

After a moment she reached for her current book, carefully setting the picture of Helena on their wedding day on the table next to her and began to read. 


	13. Somewhere in the twilight dreamtime, somewhere in the back of your mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally an attempt of an American Horror Story/Warehouse 13 crackfic crossover makes sense. Sort of. Also, bonus post for the night.

She absently rubbed her hand over her swollen belly. Any day now and little Christina would be ready to greet the world.  Helena leaned back on the counter she looked over at the pasta arm.

Why that useless item had swayed her brother to purchase this house she would never know.

“How are you feeling?”              

“Tired,” she replied, her eyes grazing over the lithe form of her maid. “But otherwise fine. Are you ready for Halloween? Any plans?”

“I plan on visiting my mother,” the other woman replied, slowly making her way into the kitchen. “She’s elderly and I don’t get to see her very often.”

“A shame,” Helena couldn’t help but ogle the long legs on display.  “Family is so very important.”

“Is it now,” the younger woman drawled, moving closer. “Is that why you moved here with your brother?”

“Among other reasons,” Helena grinned, snaking her arms around a slim waist.

Helena had researched this house a great deal before agreeing to help Charles with the purchase. Marcy was right, it was a great deal with its 1920’s style and spacious living areas.

If only so many spirits weren’t trapped here.

Helena knew to avoid the basement and told the twins in no uncertain terms that they were not allowed to interact with the baby. Tate and Chad were welcome as long as she or Charles were present.

And that vile neighbor Constance Langdon was never allowed to set foot in the house again. Especially after she’d learned what she had done to Myka.

“Will you come with me,” Myka asked. “It will be the last time I see her and I want her to know that I’m,” she swallowed. “I’m finally happy.”

“Of course love,” Helena smiled, pulling the other woman to her. “It is your only night free of this house. We can spend it as you see fit.”

“Thank you,” Myka grinned and leaned in for a kiss.

Charles rolled his eyes as he entered the kitchen catching Myka and his sister making out. He knew that Helena saw her love as a young woman but his eyes only witnessed Myka in her older persona.

It was creepy and weird. But his sister was in love so what could he do.

Myka pulled back, sensing another presence in the kitchen.

“Do you like what you see?” she asked.

“Yes and no,” Charles replied honestly as he pulled open the fridge.  “Do you think everyone will behave themselves tonight?” he asked.

“As much as possible. It is Halloween after all.” Myka replied.

“I am going to meet Myka’s mother,” Helena added.  Charles closed the refrigerator door and looked over at his sister.

“Really.” he drawled. “Are things that serious?”

“Yes,” Helena took Myka’s hand.

“Good,” Charles nodded. “I wish you both the best. And hope for a quiet night.”

With a nod, Helena pulled her love from the kitchen. 

Charles sighed. He loved his sister and he thought Myka was a brilliant match for her.

If only she wasn’t a ghost, it would be perfect.


	14. All I wanted was to break your walls, all you ever did was break me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't just every say I just walked away, I will always want you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a bit of season 2/3 angst to go with the angst I posted last night in Ink. Pop ballads on repeat made this possible.
> 
> And vodka (of course). ; P

Myka watched as Kosan’s team lead Helena, no scratch that, HG away in cuffs.  She made sure to force her expression into a neutral one. There was no way they could know just how big a mistake she’d made, allowing the charms of Helena George Wells into the Warehouse.

Into her bed.

Into her heart.

She loved Pete like a brother and believed every word when she told him to stay. He was going through his own personal hell with Kelly. The doctor was leaving town in a few days and wouldn’t return her partner’s calls.

It would be unfair to burden him with her own emotional carnage over the villain of this little piece.

 

She finally let the tears flow as she sped off, not noticing Pete racing out of the Warehouse trying to catch her.  There would be a short window of time for her to get back to the B&B to collect her things and avoid the others.

Rushing up the stairs she paused as the memories rolled over her like a tsunami.

_“So this device” HG held up the iPod Nano Claudia had given her, “can play music?”_

_“Oh yeah,” Myka smiled. “It makes inventory go so much faster. Did Claude put some songs on it for you?”_

_“She created something called playlists,” HG stepped closer on the landing. “But I’m curious to know what you prefer to listen to.”_

Myka hurried into her room, pulling out a large suitcase and duffle bag to pack her most treasured possessions in.  She’d have to send for her books later.

 

_“I’m impressed,” Helena ran her fingers along the spines of the books on the shelf. “You are quite well read. “_

_“Um thanks,” Myka blushed._

_“Do you have a favorite author?” the Victorian asked, quirking a brow._

_“Well, um,” Myka stammered through her reply, “it’s you actually.”_

_“Aces!” Helena beamed._

 

Scanning the room, the former Secret Service agent double checked to make sure she had everything important to her.  The light blue button down sticking out from under the pillow caught her eye.

_Myka couldn’t focus. The world was fuzzy and overwhelming. Helena was everywhere. Nipping at her neck. Plundering her mouth. Caressing her stomach. Feasting on her chest._

_Moans and harsh breaths was all that she could make her lips produce as her dark haired goddess moved further down her body.  Taking what Myka freely gave her._

_Everything._

Myka swallowed hard, forcing the emotions down and she closed the door. She loved the Warehouse. She loved Helena.

But they had wrecked her. She had no choice but to flee. Sometimes you just had to save yourself.


	15. The torment and delight of my heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh joy, I never knew, to love and to be loved! Can I disdain this for a life of sterile pleasure?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Opera AU set on the closing night of Verdi's La Traviata. Inspired by Maria Callas's birthday.

“Bittersweet isn’t it?” Peter asked as he settled into his place off stage. Myka glanced over her friend and opera’s newest rising star thanks to his debut performance as Alfredo.

“Closing night always is,” she turned back to the stage.

“Helena is in rare form,” he looked toward the stage as the star soprano began Ah fors’e lui. The words spoke of Violetta’s shock and wonder at falling in love, true love, for the first time. When the British singer had been cast in this season’s performance of Verdi’s brilliant work at The Met, the press had drawn unfavorable comparisons to her character’s life as a courtesan and the singer’s checkered reputation.

Myka Bering, veteran of the supporting character role for many years knew most of what she’d heard was tripe. Singers were notorious in their love of gossip and exaggerations, so Helena had started with a clean slate in her book.  They had several scenes together as she was playing Flora, the best friend and she wanted the relationship to seem genuine to the audience.

During down time Myka had found Helena- or HG as she preferred to be called-a wonderful conversationalist. The easily fell into the pattern of old friends, trading war stories about opera halls, bad performances and baritones with wandering hands.

_“Sutton is the worst,” Myka laughed along with HG. They had stayed late to run a scene and wound up talking well after everyone had left.   “Every performance of Norma I was in I had to move downstage to avoid his advances.”_

_“Imagine being opposite of him in Lucia,” HG smiled._

_The laughter died and they were left with an awkward silence.  Until HG leaned forward and kissed her._

Myka was broken out of her memories when Pete sang his off stage call in Sempre Libera.  The performances were ending as was the affair she was having with HG.  There was always a chance that they would perform together again at some point, but opera tastes were fickle. Today’s rave reviews of La Traviata were easily replaced by calls of retirement after La Boheme.

Not to mention she was scheduled for dates in Dallas, Chicago, LA and Seattle while HG would return to overseas for a series of dates in London, Paris and Moscow.

HG turned as she moved across the stage eye’s meeting Myka’s. Suddenly it was if she was singing to her and not Alfredo.  About love, freedom and the awakening of joy was because of Myka.  And in that moment, Myka Bering understood the madness and euphoria of love better than she ever had in the past.

The aria ended and the audience exploded in applause as it had for every performance.  The curtain fell as the cheers continued. HG stepped out for a quick solo bow.

Myka turned to head downstairs to the dressing room. She had to get into costume for Act II but risked a quick glance back at HG who was coaxed out for a second solo curtain call.  Their eyes met and the other woman beamed; eyes full of adoration and something that looked like love.

Myka smiled. Maybe she would have her agent, Mr. Nielson, explore what was available next season at Covent Garden after all. 


	16. I’ll go braving everything, with you swallowing the shine of the sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But I won't be no runaway, cause I don't run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow up to the I am Legend/Omega Men AU found in Chapter 12. A bit of blending between the movie and the book with some angst mixed in for fun.

Myka checked her watch and glanced outside. Winter was coming and the sun was going down sooner.  She had lost time when the tire blew out on the Ford Ranger she was currently driving, pushing her planned stop to the downtown branch of the library to later in the week.

Old habits die hard and even though there wasn’t a need to keep track of the days or operate on a schedule, Myka couldn’t help feel a bit calmer by the normalcy found in the ways of the old world. It was another way she kept herself distinct from them.

From Helena.

 Yes the library would have to wait. She had plenty of books left to finish so she’d have to make due. It was time to refresh on a couple of the home maintenance guides she’d snagged early on. She’d picked the duplex because of its design and sturdy construction.

But night attacks the few times the power had failed necessitated repairs.

Perhaps she should review the electrical engineering books first.

It had been a few years since things went to hell and the virus swept across the city. Many of the stores she looted looked almost as good as they did when shoppers crowed the aisles. For reasons she had yet to discover, the Night Walkers tended to stay away from the bevy of things left behind.  Myka had discovered sections of well organized gardens throughout the city (which he’d torched). And occasional livestock that had wandered into the city in pens (which she’d slaughtered and took for herself).  In both she’d recognized her wife’s logical mind at work. As in their life before Helena was a natural born leader that was setting up the macabre community she seemed to be in charge of for success.

 Today Myka was going to make her move on an Army/Navy supple store on Main and Mandela, needing to stock up on dried provisions and what weapons she could find.

She silently thanked her Secret Service training and her free time spent at Quantico for helping to (unknowingly) prepare for post-apocalypse times.  Three weeks ago she’d shot out all of the windows, allowing sunlight to stream in easily.  Two weeks ago she’d made her way to the roof, opening any possible door or vent that would allow light to stream into the main part of the store.  A couple of hours ago she’d propped open the front door and took the back door off of its hinges. The shotgun design of the store should allow sunlight to easily cut across the entire showroom floor that way.

Helena’s “friends” were knows to hid out in random buildings if they couldn’t make it to their lair before sunrise.  She’d had enough surprises in her time to do everything she could to protect herself.

But there was only so much she could do before she entered any building.

 

She was almost done with the supply run. The store had been one of the less looted she’d found. Plenty of K rations as backup, a better fitting flak jacket, two new handguns and a sniper rifle complete with ammo. 

It wasn’t a sound that told her she wasn’t alone, it was a smell. An aching familiar perfume that had been a third wedding anniversary gift.

Closing her eyes, she gripped the handgun at her waist tightly.

Opening them, she spun quickly, leveling her gun at the darkest shadow in the store.

“Darling,” Helena’s voice floated out of the darkness, “is that really necessary?” The other woman stepped forward as far as she dared.

“Yes, it is,” Myka growled out, slowly moving towards the door with the items she’d gathered, eyes darting to the other areas not illuminated by sunlight.

“I am alone.”

Myka didn’t reply, lower her gun or stop moving toward the door.  There was only about two hours of sunlight left and it was at least an hour back to the compound.  She was already cutting things too close to her liking.

“Myka, please,” Helena’s tone stopped her progress.

“Thank you.”

“What do you want?”

Sighing, Myka could almost make out Helena running a hand through her long hair.

“I came here at great risk to warn you that you are in danger.”

Myka scoffed and began to move towards the door.

“There is growing discussion amongst the Regents about eliminating the Bering situation,” she began to explain. “As of now I am able to get them to consider other options but soon a vote will be taken. And we will lose.”

“It’s almost as if you think yourselves human.” Myka shook her head. “Monsters with a plan. Ridiculous.”

“I am NOT a monster!” Helena stepped forward closer to the light.  Her midnight hair framed a ghostly white familiar face.

It was the eyes that threw Myka the most.  The warm brown that used to look at her with love or mischief were a solid black. Endless. Dark. Soulless.

“Then what are you then?”

Helena swallowed and stepped further into the light and spoke with a passion Myka hadn’t heard in over three years.

“I am Helena Wells, the same woman you met at Nielson Books 14 years ago.  The same woman who proposed to you in front of our friends and family two years later.  The woman who will love you until I draw my last breath.”

A tension filled silence settled in the store.

“You almost had me,” Myka smiled sadly, “until that last bit. Last I checked you died in my arms three years ago last week.”

“Why must you always be so suborn!!” Helena began to pace in the small area. “I am still me, Myka. The same thoughts, the same feelings, the same memories. Only now society operates at night. And soon things will be just like they used to be.”  She stopped pacing and looked at the other woman, dark eyes begged for understanding.

“As long as you look and live like you.”  Myka bit out.

“There is a place for everyone darling, even you.”

“Do not call me that,” Myka was growing angry. She had wasted enough time here with this thing that looked, acted, even smelled like her Helena. She lowered her gun and continued her journey towards the door.

“You are virus free. If you die you will not come back!” Helena shouted at Myka’s retreating form.  
“I can’t lose you.”

Myka broke then, just for a moment, allowing the suppressed emotions-the love-she felt for Helena bubble to the surface.  In her heart she desperately wanted to believe every word she’d heard, to make peace with the Night Walkers. To rest in the safety of Helena’s arms.

But logic asserted itself once again.

“Goodbye.”

 

She could tune out a lot of things in this new bleak world. The eerie silence of a large city, the jeers and cat calls that greeted her every sundown, the brief moment every morning when she felt the ghost of a second body in her bed.

But the sound of the creature that called itself her Helena crying would haunt her for many days to come. 


	17. In the garden I played the tart, I kissed your lips and broke your heart, you were acting like it was the end of the world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I reached for the one I tried to destory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super AU. Super dark. Opens with a torture scene and major character death so be warned.

The blows rained down on her, opening old wounds and causing the room to spin. After a moment, she opened a bleary eye and spit out the blood that had filled her mouth

“Tell me,” an accented male voice said from the darkness.

“Go to hell,” she rasped.

“I think we’re already there Agent Bering.”

“Where is my partner?” she asked again, lifting her head slowly trying her best to focus with her one working eye.

“Dead,” the voice replied. “He wasn’t as durable as you appear to be.”

She swallowed.  “As if I believe you.”

The man nodded and a shuffling was heard. A door opened and closed somewhere outside her line of sight.

“I had heard you were quite black and white in your view of things Agent Bering.”

She heard the door open again, a dim light filtered into the gloomy room.

“I am not one to exaggerate. This is what will make us excellent partners in this endeavor.”

With a nod one of her captors brought over a sack.  They opened it and dumped out its contents.

Myka gasp and pushed back into her chair.

“As I said,” the man squatted down, casting a quick glance at the head at his feet. “Agent Lattimer is dead.”

 

“You were right. She will not break.”

“I told you,” she sighed.  “Honey is a better trap than vinegar in this case. Killing Lattimer was a stupid move.”

“He tried to escape.”

A blade appeared and without warning the man’s throat was slashed.  He fell, gasping for air as he clutched his throat.

“You are now in charge of acquisitions,” she looked at a sandy haired blonde man who stood immobile next to his fallen comrade.  “Do not disappoint me Mr. Secord.”

“Yes ma’am.”

 

 

Instead of the pain she had grown accustomed too, it was a gentle touch that pulled her from the darkness. She was on a bed in a room that resembled her own from the B&B. Dawn was breaking, casting a warm glow on the comforter she was under.

She tested her legs-they were free. Then her wrists, also unbound. She felt incredibly sore and sad, the image of what was left of Pete flashing behind closed eyelids.  She kept her eyes closed as she attempted to sit up, but pressure on her shoulder kept her in place.

“Do not move,” a familiar English voice caused her one good eye to open.

“Helena?”

“Yes darling,” the other woman smiled. “You’ve been gravely injured. Please lie still.”

“What,” she swallowed, “what happened? Where am I?”

“You were captured,” Helena reached for a cup of water, moving the straw to help the other woman drink. “You and Pete.  I’m sorry Myka,” she squeezed the Agent’s hand. “We didn’t get there in time.”

“I know,” Myka leaned back into the bed. “Where am I?  How did you find me?”

“A safe house,” HG explained. “Far away from where we found you.”

“And you,” Myka looked up at the other woman in wonder, “what are you doing here?”

“You were missing,” Helena explained. “There was no way I could sit idly by in Wisconsin.”

“But Nate?”

“I will explain in due time,” Helena smiled and ran a tender hand across her forehead. “Rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Okay,” Myka gave her a weak smile. “I’m so glad you came back.”

Helena merely smiled as the other woman closed her eye.

 

After making sure she was asleep, Helena quietly got up from the chair next to the bed and left the room.

Mr. Secord was waiting.

“As I said, honey will get us the prize that is sought,” HG motioned for the other man to follow her down the hall.

“Impressive,” he replied.  “Mr. Sykes will be glad to hear it.”

“And what of Agent Bering?” he asked as they paused at the top of the stairs.

“She will either fall in line or be eliminated,” HG sighed, running a hand through her hair. “If she doesn’t pan out, there are other Agents at our disposal. Make sure to inform me when she wakes again.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Jack watched the former Warehouse agent descend the stairs, wondering how someone so lovely in appearance could be so malevolent inside.  Perhaps in had something to do with her unnaturally long life.

She was not a woman to be disappointed, so he quickly returned to the bedroom doorway to check on the unsuspecting Agent Bering. 


	18. Made of flecks of light and dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So much love in her words, forever with her colors, she can look forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I blame Sondheim on repeat and a fluff onslaught on Tumblr.

Late afternoon light streamed into the room, casting long shadows off of the footstool and the stack of books on the table near the window.

She clutched the pen as the faint sounds of a melody echoed through the house. Someone was at the piano, fiddling with a tune that was just out of her grasp.

Sighing, she returned to her task at hand, pushing a wayward curl out of her eyes.  Writing down her thoughts, her feelings really, hadn’t been her idea. She was more of a reader, allowing others words to sweep her into worlds far better than her own. Even if hers did involve what was supposed to be endless wonder.

The melody coalesced into a more familiar form. Her mother had been a fan of that particular show ever since she saw a local production that had starred their neighbor’s son.  Her mother would bring down the worn record when it was just the two of them minding the bookstore.  She’d softly sing along off key from deep within the stacks when she thought no one was listening.

It brought a grin to Myka’s face. It was one of the few memories from her childhood that she would always treasure.

She looked down at the white. The blank page, a canvas to paint her thoughts upon. Something that she could share with the child growing inside of her. The real endless wonder in her world.

How could she possibly write about the nature of love? The possibility of forever? She had never bothered to think in terms longer that three year segments until she’d met a woman over the barrel of a gun.

As she stared at the empty page, fragments of her mother’s soft singing filled her mind’s eye.  Words about harmony, about an ordinary day captured forever. 

Since joining the Warehouse she’d imaged her life would be captured in the large moments:  MacPherson, Sykes, Paracelsus, even Helena.  As the melody started again she realized that her world was made up the smaller moments. An off color joke by Pete, Claudia teasing Steve, Artie talking about photography with Abigail.

Each dot placed on a larger canvas that was a rich as the golden light slowly crawling across the room.

She felt her enter the room sometime later. The light had almost faded but it was still enough for Myka to keep the lamp on the desk off.  A kiss was dropped on her head and gentle hands rubbed her shoulders.

“What are you writing about love?”  Helena asked.

“An ordinary Sunday,” she replied, closing the journal. 


	19. And every girl gotta look me up and down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An anniversary night in New York City.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vodka +Partiton+Beyonce=this madness. Totally un betated so I apologize for the mess. Call this a preview for edits will come later today. Thanks for reading.
> 
> Updated: Finally got around to editing this today. Man, that Beyonce album. It will be a soundtrack for a few of these things for sure.

Forty five minutes later and Myka looked at her watch.  Helena had called from behind the closed door that she would be ready ‘in a moment’.

They were in New York City on an easy snag and bag. Their anniversary was coming up so Claudia had booked a swanky room at the Waldorf for a full week knowing that the bag would only take a day or two.

She was their ‘biggest fan girl’ after all so it was the least she could do.

Helena had researched as much as possible in preparation. She wanted to make sure the curiosity was found as quickly as possible so they could celebrate. Even if the first day of observance was spent mostly in the hotel room.  

Helena smirked as she applied her lipstick. The path they had taken to get to this point had been difficult but the end result was worth it. She gave herself another once over and wondered how long she’d make it with this dress on.

 “Our reservation is in 20 minutes,” Myka called, staring at bedroom door of their suite. “Are you almost done?”

She adjusted the collar of the sharp suite, complete with slim tie (at Helena’s insistence).

“Almost done,” the English voice called.

Myka pulled out her phone and scanned her messages. She couldn’t help but chuckle at the silly texts from both Pete and Claudia.  They were a nice distraction from the growing tension she felt. Yes, she hated being late but she had helped Helena pick out the dress during a retrieval in Los Angeles a couple of months ago.

And desperately wanted to see it on her wife.

Without warning, the door opened and her love revealed herself. Myka looked up and gasped, almost wishing for a moment more behind the partition of the door between them to better prepare herself for the vision before her.

The violet dress with the plunging neckline and flowing skit took her breath away. Long dark locks cascaded over slim shoulders.   The delicate strap over her left shoulder revealed just enough flesh to tempt her senses. The violet color, clutching tightly to her chest accenting her ‘assists’ caused Myka to swallow roughly.

“And we aren’t going to make it to this club,” Myka murmured she approached her lover.

“So,” Helena smirked, “is the kind of girl you like? Right here, with me?”

“Definitely,” Myka moved forward and clutched Helena by the waist.


	20. I’m getting old and I need something to rely on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin

Emily starred out across the snow covered parking lot. It was a week before Christmas and she’d never felt lower.  Her year and half long relationship with a lovely man and his precocious daughter had slowly disintegrated. The man was off limits and the daughter-the real reason for the relationship she now understood-had moved on as well.

The largest tether to this false life, the fantasy she’d built as an escape from the harsh realities she’d endured for longer than she’d ever imaged, was destroyed. But her own fears and insecurities had kept her in a dead end job in a midsized boring town in the middle of nowhere.

But she had her ways of keeping up with her old life. The time she’d spent wooing her unsuspecting coworkers allowed her to keep tabs on them to a certain extent.  There had been a major regime change thanks to a very hostile takeover attempt.   Her one time protégé had not only saved the day but had taken over control of the facility she had worked in.

There had been the senseless death of the woman who had been their emotional caretaker as well.  It had caused the most senior member of her former team to descend into madness. But that too had passed.

But the worst, the absolute soul wrenching worst, had befallen her best friend. A woman, who if she was honest with herself, was so much more and had somehow saved her from her darkest days, had developed Cancer.

Her former team, daresay friends, had neglected to give her the official word but she knew. Emily knew one day when a pit had formed in her stomach. She knew when her earlier precautions had provided more details. And her own computer skills had filled in the gaps.

That knowledge, that weight, had ultimately ended the relationship with the nice man who she’d been seeing for all that time. They both knew he couldn’t compete-wouldn’t compete-with her past.

If he only knew.

Emily sighed and looked across the empty land before her. She was restless. She was unhappy. She was afraid. She was lonely.

And she was ready to work on those feelings, holidays be damned.

Turning from the window she pulled her phone from the small table and dialed a number from memory.

“So,” she drawled after a surprised but welcome greeting reached her ears. “I was wondering how you felt about coffee on Christmas Eve?”


	21. You lead me on with those innocent eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She pulled out her phone once she had made it to the kitchen. There were several missed calls and texts from Mr. Secord and a long email from Miss St. Clair regarding her progress and expenses.
> 
> But it was the blocked number that she’d missed an hour ago that most concerned her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the super dark super au started in Chapter 17. Major spin on season 3/4.

Recovery had been brutal, and if Myka was honest with herself, she would never be back to one hundred percent.  Once she was well enough to travel, Helena had moved her to a safe house outside of Featherhead. Dr. Calder took over her primary care and had a specialist flown in three days a week for physical therapy.

The emotional scars ran deeper and Myka thanked every higher power daily for Helena. Yes, she had regularly scheduled therapy sessions with a Dr. Cho, but it was Helena who was there to pick up the pieces after.  Who held her while she cried. Soothed her when she awoke in the middle of the night with nightmares and kept her company until she fell back asleep.

Seven weeks had passed before Myka brought up Boone again. She didn’t want to spoil the semi-perfect bubble she was living in with the other woman. They had just finished dinner and we’re quietly reading in the living room.

“What is it?” Helena asked, looking up from her book. “You haven’t turned a page in quite some time.”

“How long,” Myka swallowed, “how much longer will you be here?”

“As long as I am needed.”

“And then?”

Helena closed her book and set it on the small table next to her armchair.

“You want to know if I will be returning to Wisconsin,” she sighed. “You want to know why I never returned to the warehouse.”

Myka looked down, missing Helena’s soft smile.

“Nate is someone who came into my life during a very dark period. Working those many months for The Regents had become too much. And so I left.”

“I found myself wandering from place to place,” Helena leaned back, running a hand through her hair, “the big cities were horrid. I felt overwhelmed; claustrophobic. Not to mention the siren’s call of artifacts was difficult to ignore.

_It was in New Delhi that Sykes men finally tracked her down.  Part of her wasn’t surprised that someone with his resources could find a way to cheat death. And so she became a prisoner of a different sort once again._

_But it was one of her own making, one that she was glad to be trapped in._

“And so I found myself investigating smaller cities until one day I came across a quaint suburban town on a lovely lake in Wisconsin.  I faked my credentials to win employment I felt worthy of and found myself meeting a nice man who has an amazing daughter.”

“And you were happy?”

“For a time,” Helena looked over at her friend’s troubled face. “But as you so eloquently pointed out, I could no longer run from my truth.  Nate and I were separated when Claudia called to tell me about your disappearance.”

“So,” Helena smiled, “to answer your question I am back for as long as you need me to be.  Permanently  if you so wish.”

“Good,” Myka nodded with a crooked grin and returned to her book.

 

Helena crept out of Myka’s bedroom hours later after getting the other woman settled, keeping the door cracked in case the Agent cried out in the night.

She pulled out her phone once she had made it to the kitchen. There were several missed calls and texts from Mr. Secord and a long email from Miss St. Clair regarding her progress and expenses.

But it was the blocked number that she’d missed an hour ago that most concerned her.

She feared no man. But Water Sykes would always concern her.

_Everything is moving according to plan_ , she texted. _Within the month I will have access to what you desire most._

_And then?_ The response was within seconds.

_I will end the Warehouse once and for all._ Helena smiled.

_And Bering?_


	22. In the darkest night hour, I’ll search through the crowd, your face is all that I see

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of the holidays here's a bit of mega fluff thanks to XO by Beyonce. This could be considered a tag to the first saga I posted here on AO3-The Quiet Things No One Ever Knows. There are characters mentioned in this are from that story.
> 
> I'd like to dedicate this to two of my most supportive followers here on AO3-Strongwoman341 and Roadie. Thanks for your comments and feedback this year. This is for you!

Helena looked over the items laid across the top of the dresser as she buttoned her crisp white shirt. Claudia would be her soon to take her to the chapel in Featherhead but she’d requested a few minutes alone to gather herself.

The Victorian was well versed in all of the trappings this day must endure thanks to her mother, but it seemed that the modern times had done away with such antiquated notions. To a certain extent at least.

Helena secured the gold band on her wrist, a ‘temporary’ gift from Pete and his mother. The Regent had worn in on her own special day and night. Nine months later Pete’s sister had been born.

Next she held the silver cufflinks in her hand. Jake and Nikita had surprised her two days ago with their presence and the gift of something old. Nikita had explained they were Jay’s from their union day and that her dearly departed aunt would definitely want her to have them.  Helena clutched the pair in her hands for a moment, absorbing the emotions and allowing them to pass through her.

After fastening the cufflinks, she reached for a bright blue folded handkerchief.  Steve had presented it to her at the engagement dinner, talking about how the new accessory line from Chanel was his favorite and how well the color complimented her complexion.

She pulled on the charcoal jacket, making sure the blue was visible from the coat pocket, the gold band was smooth and the cufflinks poked out at the bottom of her sleeves.  She was ready.

 

“Man,” Pete said facing the door. “What a year.”

Myka hummed her agreement as Leena fiddled with the dress.

“But this is the best way to end it,” Leena stepped back.  “You can turn around now Pete.”

“Oh wow,” Pete grinned. “Mykes, man, HG is going to flip when she sees you in this.”

Myka couldn’t help but blush at Pete’s compliment. 

“You look beautiful Myka,” Leena beamed.

“Thanks guys,” she swallowed. “Could I um…could I have a moment.”

“We’ll be right outside,” Pete nodded.

With a deep breath, Myka looked at herself in the full length mirror.  She had surprised herself when she decided on a dress. Tracy had been ecstatic on that visit home, taking her across Denver until they’d found this dress in a small downtown shop.

_“Oh Myka,” her sister had hugged her tightly when she came out of the dressing room. “You’re getting married.”_

The Agent almost couldn’t believe it herself.  After a year apart while Helena recuperated with her family, things had been nonstop since her return, Walter Sykes too fresh a memory on everyone’s mind. So on her birthday six months ago, in front of her Warehouse family, she’d proposed and Helena had said yes.

And it had been perfect.

A soft knock on the door reminded her that she actually had to walk down the aisle to make it official. With a smile, she opened the door to Pete’s bouncing form. She was ready.

“Let’s get me married Lattimer.”

 

“So,” Helena pulled the taller woman closer to her, “how does it feel Mrs. Bering-Wells?”

“How does what feel Mrs. Bering-Wells?” Myka grinned and leaned in for a quick kiss as they swayed across the dance floor.

“To be a married woman?”

“Glorious.”


	23. I am still haunting down the road I know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Future AU set in a crazy dystopian future. So you know, the usual. A chance for an edit/expansion in the future so keep your eyes open for more madness in 2014.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So after spending time with an old playlist this came forth. There are 3 references in this: for a movie, for a fic of mine, and for a TV show. The first person who gets all three can submit a prompt for a Bering and Wells fic of their choice that I will complete in 2014. Call it a thanks/challenge to myself.

Myka’s knuckles turned white as she gripped the steering wheel. She glanced over her left shoulder, noting the car attempting to take her spot. With a quick turn and swerve she sent the car careening into the wall and out of the competition.

She could not lose. Leena needed the medicine for her condition and they all needed the food. She hated these Death Races but that’s what the world in 2046 had evolved into.  And she was ever adaptable.

The former arbitration lawyer glanced down at the tracker on her dash. Only 1.6 miles to go and victory would be hers.

“All quiet on the Western front Bering,” an English accent filled her earpiece.

“So far so good,” she grinned. “In the home stretch.”

“Word on the street is that the victor will receive the reward of her choosing.”

Myka smirked at the thought of what she would do to her lover after the race.  To the victor go the spoils she supposed.

“I have a bit imagination,” the driver replied, “are you sure you’re ready Helena?”

“Always.”

Myka cut off communication then to focus on the race. She was one of the top racers and couldn’t afford to finish anything less than first. She and her team needed the supplies. Plus she needed to keep suspicion off of her if their ultimate plan would work.

The former US of A needed a change from the dictatorship they currently endured.  And her lover Helena “HG” Wells was the perfect leader for the revolution that was about to take place. Right under the noses of the corrupt government they all worked for.

Myka swerved again, causing the box truck to crash into the Dodge Dakota behind her. Grinning she pressed her foot to the floor. Victory was within her grasp.

As was the glorious body of her love.

She couldn’t wait.

 


	24. You look like you wanted home, far from God and close to none

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HG had quite a few stops before Boone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A rare crossover brought to you thanks to cold medicine and NYESARS (as my pal calls it). Hello 2014! Thanks for reading.

Helena shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders as she made her way over to the thermostat. Canada, Toronto in particular, was currently experiencing a record cold snap.  She had overheard the baristas at the local coffee shop joking that it was currently warmer on Mars than in their fair city.

Sighing she made her way to the battered armchair closest to the heater and waited for the furnace to kick on. She was restless. The Astrolabe lay hidden underneath the full sized mattress in her room calling out its need to move on.

But after months of running she’d found herself staying longer than expected thanks to an impromptu  artifact hunt that turned into a run in with an old lover. A man who she’d thought long dead. (In her defense it had been 1894 when she had last crossed paths with Dyson.) And during the retrieval she’d managed to integrate herself with the man’s miss matched family. (That reminded her so much of her brief time at the current iteration of the Warehouse it hurt).

So she’d stayed through the end of the year and into the next, helping out when called upon and simply enjoying being amongst people for a change. There was still no word from Mrs. Fredrick or The Regents in regards to her return. It was moments like this, as the current version of this year’s influenza racked her body with a deep cough, that she missed the company of her modern family.

And of one woman in particular.

Helena felt the phone in her breast pocket vibrate.  It was a text from one of her new friends.

_My Kenzi sense was tingling. How are you feeling? Bobo and I can make a house call with some soup if needed._

She smiled typing out a reply, sinking further into the chair.

Yes, she would need to move on soon with the Astrolabe.  But not just yet.


	25. Welcome to the Hellmouth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Warehouse isn't the only entity that knows about HG Wells.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Total crack!fic posted thanks to an idea from someone else's Tumblr about a Buffy/Warehouse 13 crossover. Two for two tonight on the crazy.
> 
> (Edited to clean up a bit of the mistakes thanks to cold medicine)

Giles looked over the Codex for what felt like the hundredth time.  One would think that after years of dealing with the occult that your senses would be dulled to the unexplained.

Looking that the three people before him, he supposed that hypothesis was incorrect.

“So let me get this straight,” Buffy looked over at the three strangers in the library.  “You guys knew Angel and his crew back in olden times?”

“Not all of us,” the lead agent, a thin woman with brown curly spoke up, her eyes meeting Buffy’s without doubt, “Just one.”

“And how is this possible,” Willow asked, looking up from the giant volume in front of her.

“ I was suspended in time,” Helena began, not quite sure how to put her time in Bronze in words the teenagers before her would understand.

“It was like Carbonite,” Pete supplied, looking at the youngsters before him.

“Got it,” the young man, Xander, nodded his agreement.  Of course Pete would be the one able to relate to the children before them.

“Look,” Myka began, not quite able to believe the words about to come out of her mouth, “we want to achieve the same goal. We are looking for the knife, an artifact, and you want to prevent the end of the world here on the Hellmouth.” She swallowed hard, not quite believing the logic behind that statement.

“Agreed,” Giles nodded, reaching for his glasses. “There is an unrecorded history of your agents as part of The Watchers Lore,” he began,” The Warehouse isn’t’ an unknown entity to us.”

“Well there’s a break,” Pete murmured, looking at Myka.

“I’ve been reviewing some of the notes to the Watcher diaries,” Giles moved over to the desk and picked up a worn journal. “There is quite a bit of interaction in the late 1800s between your Warehouse and the Watchers from what I’ve gathered.”

“Wolcott had a Watcher as a lover,” Helena chimed in with a grin. “Darby Cavendish.”

“Yes,” Giles swallowed. “And you are HG Wells I presume.”

The dark haired woman nodded.

“Woah,” Xander looked over at Willow and Buffy. “HG Wells is a woman.”

“I have to process this,” Willow swallowed.

“Yes,” HG explained, “Charles was the face but I was the research and quite a bit of the writing,” she sent a soft look Myka’s way.  “I have dealt with The Watchers before,” she smirked, “and their futile attempts to capture both Angelus and Darla.”

“You know Angel,” Buffy was stunned.

“Oh yes. Quite well.” Helena smiled. “He and I crossed swords many times during his London residency.”

“Getting back to the matter at hand,” Myka cut into HG's trip down memory lane,” we’ve got a world ending event to prevent and an artifact to collect.” She looked at Giles, the only adult in the room.

“Agreed,” he nodded. “What do you suggest?”


	26. Fawncy Meetin’ You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myka surveyed the land. Pickings were slim and many of the tables would only accommodate one or two people. All were too far away from the dance floor for her liking.
> 
> “Quite a quandary,” an accented voice pulled Myka’s attention from the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new mini-series to start the new year. Thanks for the prompt Roadie! I hope this works.
> 
> This one should be a 3/4 chapter story. Here's part one. Thanks for reading.

Myka kept her breathing even as her mother opened the door to make sure she was asleep. It had been a long and trying day at the book store. Myka was 20, it was 1938 and she was an independent woman capable of living on her own. She was only working at the book store part time these days anyway, her job clerking for Mr. Neilson had become full time six months ago.

_“For the last time,” Her father had practically shouted, “you are not moving out from under this roof until you are good and married.”_

_“What would people think,” her mom, of course had taken his side, “a young woman out on her own.”_

_“I wouldn’t be on my own,” Myka crossed her arms. “Pete has a room just down the hall in the apartment building and Steve is one floor down.  I have enough saved to get started…”_

_“No,” Warren Bering huffed. “And that’s final.”_

_“Fine,” Myka threw up her hands in disgust and walked away, ignoring the sympathetic look from her younger sister Tracy._

_“They’ll come around eventually Mykes,” Tracy had found her some time later in the stacks._

_“I doubt it.”_

_“Well you could always do things their way,” Tracy, 16 and boy crazy would of course say something like that, “what about Sam?”_

_“Sam,” Myka’s eyebrows practically flew off her head.  “No,” she shook her head, “Just no.”_

_“But you seemed to really like him.”_

_“He’s fine Trace,” she sighed. “Just not what I’m looking for, IF I was looking for someone. Which I’m not.”_

_“Okay,” Tracy sighed and moved off. “Just don’t end up like Mrs. Lake, an old maid with ten cats.”_

_“So funny,” Myka mumbled getting back to inventory._

 

After what she hoped was enough time had passed, she slowly got out of bed and crept over to the wardrobe.  Carefully pulling out the dress she planned to wear tonight.  Pete and Steve had told her about a new band that had come into town a few months ago.  They were supposed to go on around midnight at The Famous Door and Myka planned to be front row center on the dance floor.

 

“You look fantastic tonight,” Steve said as Pete wolf whistled.

“Thanks boys,” Myka smiled.  Pete had been her best friend since diapers since the Lattimer’s owned the bakery across the street from the bookstore.  They had met Steve when he transferred into their high school during sophomore year.  Steve had introduced her to Mr. Neilson, his uncle, and had gotten her a job clerking at the same law firm last year.

Pete, ever the free spirit, drove a cab starting the day he finished high school. It was how he knew about this show.

“And you’re sure this pal of yours can get us in,” Myka asked grabbing her coat.

“No sweat,” Pete smoothed the brim on his fedora, “Buck and I go way back.”

Myka and Steve exchanged a nervous glance.

 

“Looks like we made it just in time,” Steve handed Myka and Pete their coat check ticket. The band, led by a man named Count Basie, was still setting up.

“What took you so long,” Pete glanced at Steve.

“Oh nothing.”

“What was his name?” Myka asked with a smirk.

“Liam,” Steve blushed.

“Nice,” Pete patted the shorter man on the back. “I believe drinks are in order.”

“I’ll grab us a table,” Myka offered as her friends headed for the bar.

 

Myka surveyed the land. Pickings were slim and many of the tables would only accommodate one or two people. All were too far away from the dance floor for her liking.

“Quite a quandary,” an accented voice pulled Myka’s attention from the room. 

“Excuse me,” Myka asked the man grinning up at her.

“Well,” he smiled, revealing perfect teeth, “from what I’ve observed of your perusal of the room, one could surmise you are looking for a table for you and your chums,” he nodded towards the bar where Pete and Steve were talking. “One that will fit all three of you comfortably yet allows you easy access to the dance floor.”

“And you got all that from watching me stand here?”  Myka gave the man a once over.  By the cut and design of his black suit it was obviously custom and very expensive. Instead of the tie most men wore, he had an ascot of deep blue which contrasted nicely with his light completion.  A charcoal colored trilby rested upon dark hair.

“Am I not right?” he quipped.

“Yes,” Myka smiled.

“I might have a solution to your dilemma, if I may be so bold?”

“Go ahead.”

“Well,” he leaned forward and lowered his voice, “I might have access to a table that fits all of your requirements.  The only catch,” he smiled, dark eyes sparkling, “is that you’ll have to sit with me.”

“And my friends?”

“They can sit with us also,” he leaned back. “So are we agreed?”

“On one other condition,” Myka leaned back in, feeling bold.

Her new friend quirked a brow in interest.

“We dance at least once tonight.”

He laughed and leaned back. “Of course, Miss?”

“Bering. Myka Bering.”

“Charmed,” He dipped his head slightly, “HG Wells.”

“Like the author?” Myka sputtered.

“An old family friend, or so I’m told.”  He offered his elbow, “Now Miss Myka Bering if you would be so gracious to accompany me, our table awaits.”

Myka slipped her hand into the bent elbow of Mr. Wells, allowing herself to be lead to one of the best tables in the house.  Almost not believing how quickly this awful day was turning around. 


	27. Blue and Sentimental

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “A true friend is a treasure,” Myka stepped a little closer, eyes drawn to her dance partner’s lips.
> 
> “And would I be too bold to say that we are now friends Miss Bering?” HG asked pulling the woman even closer.
> 
> “No,” Myka murmured. “Not at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two of the 30s AU started in Chapter 26. Thanks for reading!

Myka had lost track of the number of dances she’d shared with HG. Oh she’d cut the rug with Pete and Steve several times, and even once with HG’s friend William Wolcott but the Brit had captivated her most of the night.

They were softly swaying to a slower tune by the Count while a singer went on about love and loss but Myka found herself tuning out the words. She was falling into the world of the shorter man’s eyes.

“I must say Miss Bering,” HG sighed, “you dance divinely. I have truly enjoyed myself this evening.”

“As have I Mr. Wells,” Myka smiled. “You and Mr. Wolcott are quite charming.”

“Wolly and I have been a pair in a similar fashion to you and your Mr. Lattimer,” HG admitted. “I would be lost at times without his companionship.”

“A true friend is a treasure,” Myka stepped a little closer, eyes drawn to her dance partner’s lips.

“And would I be too bold to say that we are now friends Miss Bering?” HG asked pulling the woman even closer.

“No,” Myka murmured. “Not at all.”

“Aces,” HG grinned and leaned in for a kiss.

Myka lost herself in a moment as soft lips met her own. She’d kissed boys before but this felt different. It was wonderful. And perfect.

“Wow,” she whispered leaning back.  “That was…”

“Amazing,” HG grinned. 

“Indeed,” she smiled and leaned in for another kiss as the band played on.

“Miss Bering,” HG pulled back. “I hope I am not to forward in asking for the privilege of seeing you home this evening?”

“Yes,” Myka in a haze agreed. “Wait, I mean no.”

“No?”

“Sorry,” Myka blushed. “I would love it if you could see me home,” she admitted. “But I don’t think my parents would approve of a strange man showing up so late at night.”

“Ah,” HG nodded with agreement. “Well if I wish to court you properly I suppose it is necessary to make a good impression on one’s parents.”

“You wish to court me?”

“Of course darling,” HG grinned. “I find you quite charming and desperately want to get to know more about you.”

“Oh I’m not that interesting.”

“I beg to differ.”

The song ended and an up tempo number came on. 

“Mind if I cut in?” Pete appeared behind HG’s shoulder.

“Actually I’m going to sit this one out,” Myka demurred. “I need to visit the ladies room.”

Both men stepped back to allow Myka to pass.

“Another round Mr. Lattimer?” HG asked.

“After you,” Pete followed the other man to the bar.

 

“Myka’s important to me,” Pete began as they waited in line.  “She’s like a second sister.”

“She is quite special Mr. Lattimer,” HG readily agreed.  “I have never met anyone like her.”

“And so when I tell you that Steve and I watch out for her,” he looked over at the shorter man, making sure he had his full attention, “and don’t want to see her hurt, you understand what I’m saying?”

“Of course,” HG nodded. “Although we’ve just met I can see that she is a treasure.  I would expect nothing less from you Mr. Lattimer.”

“Good,” Pete nodded. “Because I’ve heard of you Mr. Wells. You’ve got quite the reputation as a skirt chaser. And Myka doesn’t need that type of man in her life.”

“Understood.” HG turned to face her companion, pushing the trilby back slightly. “Though I must admit I find the field, as it were, now closed for play.”

The pair looked at each other for a moment and nodded.

“Scotch neat,” HG said turning to the bartender, “and a pilsner for my friend.”

 

Myka and HG stood apart from the group as they left the club. They had all agreed to keep in touch and numbers had been exchanged.

“So,” HG reached up and pulled the collar of Myka’s coat snuggly against her neck, “when I might see you again Miss Bering?”

“How about lunch on Tuesday? If you are available.”

“For you darling, of course.”

“I work at Nielson and Fredrick.”

“The law firm in lower Manhattan. I know of it. My father had some business dealings with them several years ago. What time shall I pick you up?”

“12:30?”

“It’s a date.”

“A date,” Myka replied.

“May I have a goodnight kiss?”

With a nod the taller woman leaned in and met HG’s lips once more. It felt heavenly.

“You have no right to be such a good kisser,” she whispered pulling back.

“I could say the same. Good night Miss Bering.”

“Good night Mr. Wells,” Myka stepped back and with a small wave joined Pete and Steve in Pete’s cab.

 

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Wolcott asked as he and HG headed towards the car.

“Of course,” HG scoffed.

“HG,” he paused, “Helena, I saw how you looked at her. She isn’t some bird to woo and cut loose.”

Helena pulled off her hat and ran her fingers through shoulder length dark locks.

“She is special, that much is assured.”

“And when she wants more?”

“I shall cross that bridge when I come to it dear friend.” Helena replied in a huff.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”


	28. Stormy Weather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No,” Pete scratched his neck, the number one tell when something was bothering him.  
> “Spill it Lattimer.”  
> “I don’t know Mykes,” he sighed in frustration. “That’s just it. HG’s a swell guy but there’s something slightly off.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next part in the 30s AU is here. Along with the angst. Thanks for reading and all the feedback. You guys are awesome.

Lunch on Tuesday lead to coffee on Friday morning which lead to a sold out matinee of Our Town on Sunday afternoon.

And so began a pattern of visits, some merely brief chats over personally delivered coffee and pastries to start Myka’s day at Nielson and Fredrick. Others romantic evenings spent at the theater or spinning on the floor of the Roseland Ballroom.

 

“So Mykes,” Pete asked one Saturday morning as they worked side by side at Bering and Son’s Books.  “You and HG seem to be getting pretty serious,” he looked up at his friend atop the ladder. “How long have you two been seeing each other?”

“Tonight makes four months,” Myka sighed, thinking about her most recent date with HG. The pair had dined at Tavern on the Green. Afterward they had strolled Central Park while enjoying  a delightful discussion about Wilder’s new play. They also talked about their favorite author and chatted about The Shape of Things to Come which they had to decided to simultaneously reread.  It had been incredibly refreshing for Myka to be able to speak freely and be valued for more than just her looks.

“And everything is going okay?”

Myka paused her daydreaming and came down from the ladder. “Is something up?”

“No,” Pete scratched his neck, the number one tell when something was bothering him.

“Spill it Lattimer.”

“I don’t know Mykes,” he sighed in frustration. “That’s just it. HG’s a swell guy but there’s something slightly off.”

“Off?”

“Yeah,” he shook his head, “you know how I get feelings about some things right?”

“And HG is giving you one of your, what do you call it?”

“Vibes,” Pete almost looked ashamed.

“Is it a bad one?”

“Yes? No? Ugh,” Pete paced the small space. “That’s it I just don’t know.  I mean word around town is that he’s head over heels for some dame-that being you-and that she might be the one.”

“But?” Myka ignored the rush of emotion at the thought of being HG’s one.

“But can a leopard change his spots so quick? And what does he do all day up in that Park Avenue Penthouse? Does he even work?”

“Pete,” Myka shook her head. “He designers for his father’s engineering firm. Don’t you remember him telling us about the government contract they just landed when went to Joe’s Deli last week?”

Pete searched his brain for a moment but all he could picture was the cute red head who was seated two tables over.

“Um, sure Mykes.”

“Come on and help me get the rest of these books from the back. I told my dad we’d have this done by the time he came from the store.”

 

After Pete left Myka went upstairs to get ready for her date with HG that evening. Instead of going out she has agreed to join her suitor at his Penthouse.  It was the first time that they were to be alone together at his home.

She was excited and nervous for what the night might bring.  HG had been a perfect gentleman the entire time they’d been dating. Now Myka was ready for more.  But the conversation with Pete wouldn’t quite leave her either.   Maybe he was worried about what might happen to her if she went all the way with HG? Could he be jealous?

Myka laughed at that thought. She and Pete a couple? Ridiculous!

“So another hot date with the mysterious HG,” Tracy asked from the doorway.

“Or something like that,” Myka blushed and rolled her eyes at her sister.

“So when will we get to meet this guy?” Tracy took a seat on the corner of Myka’s bed.

“Soon,” Myka glanced over her shoulder. “Are mom and dad asking questions?”

“A few,” her sister shrugged. “They know that you’re seeing someone. And that it seems to be serious.” Tracy paused, “is it?”

“I think so,” Myka returned to getting ready.

“Looks like you might get to move out after all.”

 

Dinner had been amazing and delightful as always. Myka and HG spent the time swapping stories of antics shared with Pete and Wolcott during their younger days.  

“Tonight has been wonderful,” Myka sighed happily as she reclined against HG on the sofa.

“Indeed it has,” HG murmured, holding Myka tighter.

Turning in his arms, Myka leaned up and kissed HG passionately.  This night had cemented her feelings for the dapper Englishman.

HG returned the kiss with equal fervor, his hands trailing along Myka’s side and back. After a moment he began to slide the zipper down on her dress.

Myka pulled back with a gasp as HG traced soft patterns on the skin of her back as his lips caressed her neck and jaw. She slipped her hands around his waist and began to pull his shirt out of his pants.

“Wait,” HG rasped, pulling back slightly. “Wait.”

“What’s wrong?” Myka asked moving back and sitting on the couch.

“Before we go any further,” HG swallowed, “there is something I must tell you.”

“Okay,” Myka’s heart began to race.

HG sat up and took Myka’s hand. “I have never met anyone as captivating as you Myka Bering. Your wit, your charm and intelligence, your beauty and grace are beyond compare.  I have found myself unexpectedly smitten with you over these past weeks.”

“Me too HG,” Myka squeezed his hands. “I’ve fallen quite hard for you also.”

“To hear you say that you feel as strongly for me as I do you, fills me with such hope for what our future might bring,” HG smiled. “But makes what I’m about to tell you even more difficult. For I find the thought of losing you distressing beyond compare  and I fear that I might after this evening.”

“I don’t see how that’s possible.”

 HG leaned in and gave Myka a quick kiss before he stood and paced the room.

“As you know,” he began, “Wells Architect and Engineering is a global firm, with offices both here and overseas.  My father runs the firm from our headquarters in London. My brother Charles runs our second largest office in Paris, while I build the American division”

HG glanced over to make sure Myka was still with her.

“The business world that we work in is a difficult one to say the least.  It would be lovely if contracts were won or lost purely based on talent, but there are other factors that are taken into consideration. Particularly in this country. One’s social standing can play a big part if your firm is selected or not. And despite being one of the top engineers first in Paris and then London, I was not able to get a foothold in this country until recently. When I changed certain, aspects shall we say, of my nature.”

“What sort of aspects?” Myka asked worried.

HG stopped pacing and looked at Myka with such love, the book seller’s daughter  thought her heart might burst. With shaky hands he reached up to his hair, pulling out the pins and other devices that hid its true length.  He next unbuttoned his dark blue vest and tossed it onto the couch next to Myka.

HG slowly began to unbutton the crisp white shirt, keeping her eyes locked on Myka’s face.  He watched as the skin of her neck and face became red, first with embarrassment, then in anger when HG finished, eyes bulging at the sight of her bound breasts.

“I’m such a fool!” Myka growled out and stood in a rush.

“Please,” HG pleaded. “Please understand. I had hid my true nature in order for the business to prosper. My father was threatening to recall me to London and an arranged marriage. I had no other choice.”

Myka pushed past HG.

“Myka please,” HG begged. “Nothing has changed.”

“Don’t,” Myka spun, tears in her eyes. “How could you? How could you lie to me HG, if that’s even your real name.”

“The H stands for Helena,” she reached for the other woman. “You and Wolcott are the only ones in this country who I’ve trusted enough to share my secret.”

“I didn’t want to know,” Myka broke into tears. Her chest felt like it had been split wide open. “Why, why did you have to do this to me?”

“I find myself in love with you Myka,” Helena smiled sadly and reached for the other woman.

“Don’t. Just don’t.” Myka pulled away from Helena’s grasp. “I’m not like that,” she hissed. “I could never love you now.”

Helena sank to the floor in tears and she watched Myka  storm out of the Penthouse, taking her heart with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be one more part to this little tale that should be up sometime in the next few days.


	29. April in Paris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HG didn’t bother to hide her surprise on seeing Myka standing at the door.  
> “Hi,” Myka swallowed, “Helena.”  
> “Myka.”  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is the final part of this little mini series. Thanks Roadie for the prompt. I'm not sure if all of this part works (so please let me know) but I can't stare at the page anymore.
> 
> Thanks again for all of the feedback! Look for a Degenerate update to come next (if the Vodka doesn't get me first)

It had been three weeks since Myka had left HG broken on the floor of his-her-Penthouse.  Three weeks that had passed in a numb blur.

Once the shock and embarrassment had burned itself out, what had remained was anger and remorse. Anger at HG for her lies and deception.  Anger at herself for being so easily tricked into loving a lie. And remorse for how she had behaved when she had stormed off without allowing the other woman to explain further.

But once the anger had cooled the real misery had set it. Try as she might, Myka knew that she had fallen in love with HG. Not only with the ridiculously attractive man, but with the person underneath. The person who had brought her, and later the entire office sweet treats every Friday morning.  The one who had hotly debated Pete over the Brooklyn Dodgers current season.  The one who had held her hand at the end of Jezebel.  The one who would listen and question (in the best way) her literary analysis of the books they had read.

HG had become the person who knew her better than anyone else.  And that person was a woman.

 

“Man,” Myka overheard one of the other Nielson and Fredrick clerks, Claudia one day in the file room. “What’s up with Myka?”

“What do you mean?” Jack a paralegal asked.

“She’s been so out of it lately.” Claudia continued.

“I heard she broke up with that cutie HG,” Leena, Mr. Nielson’s secretary, explained. 

“Aw,” Jack sighed. “No more Friday breakfast.”

The sound of folders hitting the man brought a brief smile to Myka’s face but the pain in her heart remained.

 

A shadow appeared over Myka’s desk a few days later.  Looking up she was surprised to see HG’s friend, Mr. Wolcott standing before her.

“Miss Bering,” he greeted. “I was wondering if I might have a moment of your time?”

“I,” Myka fumbled for an excuse.

“Miss Bering,” Wolcott continued, “I understand that I am probably the last person you wish to see today, but I feel we must discuss something. It will only take a moment.”

“Fine,” Myka reached into a drawer and put her ‘Back in Five Minutes’ sign on top of the desk.  “There’s a break room this way.”

Myka shut the door and locked it behind her. None of the office gossips needed to hear this conversation.

“I will make this brief,” Wolcott began, “I first met Helena at a party of her father’s in London.  We were twelve at the time.  I was small for my age and some of the larger boys, as boys of that age tend to do, targeted me for abuse.  HG came to my rescue. Saving me from what looked to be quite a bit of pain and embarrassment.  From that time on we have watched out for each other, no matter the situation.  She is as close to me as my own sister and I love her dearly.” He focused on Myka, “In the many years that I’ve know her, I’ve never seen Helena as happy as when she was with you.”

“William,” Myka began.

“And now she is devastated,” he continued. “She has thrown herself into work, barely eating, hardly sleeping, hiding her shame and misery the only way she knows how.  I worry for her health.”

“William please,”

“Please what,” he hotly cut her off. “I understand that you might not share Helena’s proclivities as it were, but you were first and foremost her friend. No one, not even me, knows her quite the way you do. I beg of you, don’t excise Helena from your life completely.”

With a nod, Wolcott stepped past her, leaving Myka with her guilt and misery.

 

Steve found his friend with her head in hands quietly sobbing in the break room. He sat down in front of Myka, box of tissues in his hand.

“Hey,” he said sliding the box over. “I think you need these.”

“Thanks,” Myka rasped, giving him a watery smile.

“Do you want to talk about it? About HG?”

“I can’t.”

“Are you sure,” he gently prodded. She’d been avoid questions for weeks about what happened, greeting every inquiry with a clipped response of ‘it’s over, the end’.

“Because it looks like you kinda do.”

Steve waited as Myka continued to cry. He reached out and rested a hand on her arm in comfort.

“I’m in love,” Myka finally spoke. “I’m in love with her.”

“Her?”

“Yes,” Myka raised her head, “Her. HG’s real name is Helena.  She had to hide who she was for her father’s business.  HG Wells is a woman.”

“Oh wow,” Steve’s eyes widened in surprise.

“And I can’t be in love with a woman,” Myka shook her head sadly.

“Why?” he asked softly.

“Because she lied to me!”

“Okay, ignoring the fact he’s actually a she for a sec,” Steve continued, “do you think HG lied about anything else?”

Myka thought for a moment about the conversations they’d shared, and yes, there had been some tricky use of pronouns but other than that, things seemed to ring true.

“No,” Myka admitted.

“And do you think she was lying about how she felt about you?”

“No,” Myka didn’t even need to dwell on that fact. She knew that Helena was in love with her.

“All right,” Steve glanced around the room. He stood and locked the door once again. “Now please don’t hit me for this question Mykes, but what about the physical stuff.  Did it feel weird? Or Wrong?”

Myka blushed a bit, thinking about the hours spent exchanging kisses and tender touches with Helena. Those had been perfect.

Except that she had been kissing a woman.

“But she’s a woman Steve. I can’t be in love with another woman.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Myka sputtered, looking at one of her dearest friends who had been seeing a nice young boy from The Bronx named Liam for several months.

“Am I any different today than when I first told you and Pete? Does who I love change who I am inside?”

“No,” Myka admitted.

“The heart wants what the heart wants Mykes,” Steve sat back down and took both her hands in his. “And I’ll be here for you, whatever you decide.”

 

It had taken another two weeks, two more conversations with Steve, three with Pete, and a phone call with Mr. Wolcott to get Myka to this place. She was standing in front of the door to HG’s Park Avenue Penthouse. William had assured her that HG would be home.

Gathering her courage, she rang the buzzer.

Several minutes went by without a response, so she rang again and waited. 

“Bloody hell Wolly,” HG cursed as she opened the door, “I told you that I was staying in tonight.”

HG didn’t bother to hide her surprise on seeing Myka standing at the door.

“Hi,” Myka swallowed, “Helena.”

“Myka.”

“I was wondering if I could come in? To talk?”

“Um, of course.” Helena stepped back and allowed the other woman to pass.

 

They settled into the same couch that had been the breaking point in their relationship weeks before, each woman on the far end unable to start the conversation.

“Myka,” Helena began, “I never thought I’d see this day again. You look ever so lovely.”

“Thank you,” Myka looked over at HG, who was dressed to hid her true identity.

“Would you,” Myka swallowed, “would you take your hair down?”

“My hair?”

“Yes.”

Helena couldn’t help but smirk as she pulled the complicated system of pins out and let her hair flow down to her shoulders.

Myka took in the sight, cataloguing the emotions as they swept through her body.

“Could you take off your vest?”

“Now the vest?” Helena quirked a brow.

“Please.” Myka nodded, “and the…”she trailed off, pointing at her upper body and making a circling motion.

“Ah,” HG nodded and stood.

Myka looked down at the floor while the other woman removed her vest and the bindings that held her breasts. After a couple of minutes she felt the couch dip again.

“All done.”

Myka looked over at the other woman with her hair down and the crisp blue shirt with its top buttons undone.

“Nothing has changed,” Myka said to herself, her heart swelling with love.

“Myka,” Helena looked away from the other woman’s intense gave. “What are you playing at? Do you wish to see me suffer?”

“No,” she moved across the couch, her hand caressing Helena’s chin turning her head back so she could  drink in the rich brown of the Brit’s eyes. “I wanted to be sure.”

“To be sure of what?”

“That what I felt for HG Wells the man I could feel for Helena Wells the woman.”

“Myka I am ever so sorry…”

“I know,” Myka cut her off. “I’m sorry too. Sorry for not staying to hear you out. For not giving you a chance.”

Helena’s eyes closed at Myka’s words.

“It’s taken me all this time to realize that you, Helena Wells, know me better than anyone else. And that I’ve been miserable without you.”

“Please,” Helena whispered, “do not tempt my heart so.”

Helena’s eyes flew open when she felt Myka’s lips brush hers.

“I love you Helena Wells,” Myka sighed, resting her forehead on the other woman’s.

“And I you Myka Bering. Always.”

 

 

Myka shook the snow from her coat as she took it off and handed it to the check girl. She had been held up working on a special assignment for Mr. Nielson and had to meet the gang The Savoy late.  It was a special night with the Count playing another sold out show at the swing club.

It was also the one month anniversary of Myka saying goodbye to her small room above Bering and Sons Books and hello to master bedroom suite at a Park Avenue address.

“Myka,” Pete greeted with a grin pulling his best friend into a hug.  “HG’s got a table up front. The whole gang’s already here.”

With a wave she left him at the bar and headed into the club.  She easily spotted their table, but HG was nowhere to be seen.

“Hey,” Steve slipped next to her, “she’s on the floor with Claudia.”

Smirking, Myka made her way to HG’s favorite spot, the center of the crowed floor where she found the woman jiving with the shorter read head.  The crisp tan suit with royal purple ascot looked heavenly on her partner.

“Mind if I cut in?” Myka asked, tapping Claudia on the shoulder.  

“Thanks HG!” Claudia leaned up and gave her dance partner a quick kiss on the cheek before turning her over to Myka.

“Should I be jealous?” Myka asked, slipping into HG’s arms.

“Bah,” HG scoffed. “I only have eyes for you my love.”

“Good,” Myka smiled as she leaned in for a kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated the musical playlist that goes with this fic. Please check it out at http://8tracks.com/mfangeleeta/the-vodka-made-me-do-it


	30. Down with history, up with your head, for sweet tomorrow, she never fell from grace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Too dumb to say goodbye that's some cliché shit, make me wanna cry  
> Just know that every time I look in your eye, I see better, I see better, better days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Wolcott/Wells feels got to me tonight along with the Vodka.
> 
> (Edited to clean up some errors I caught today.)

He closely followed behind his partner as they chased their target down the street.  The man, a Mr. Robert Lockett, cast a quick glance behind him noting the Agents hot on his heels. Why they always ran he never understood. At least this collection was close to home. Travel, though fun, was tedious as of late.

His partner pointed toward an alley and before he could respond she was off. Sighing he continued on Mr. Lockett’s trail. It was a busy day in the square but he was able to keep track of the haggard looking man as he attempted to disappear into the crowd.  The Agent wished that for just this once things would go smoothly and innocents would not be hurt.

Mr. Lockett appeared to have other plans. He raised the artifact above his head, hoping to use is life draining properties on the crowd before he was captured.  Luckily he saw his partner slip behind the man before he could bring the item into play. With a deft move she had him subdued and the artifact secure.

“Well done,” he grinned. “That was a close one.”

“It appears our dear Mr. Lockett under estimated the skills that a woman can posses,” HG shook her head.  It was the 1890s for God sake. Would times never change?

“Lucky for us,” Wolcott replied.

“Indeed,” HG sighed.  “Come Wolly, Chataranga will want this curiosity secured as soon as possible.”

“Right ho then,” he nodded, following her through the crowd.

 

“Splendid,” Chataranga beamed, “Well done Miss Wells and Mr. Wolcott. Another successful collection, and without injury.”

“Thank you sir,” HG replied. 

“You two are becoming quite the pair,” he looked them over. “How would you feel about being teamed on assignments for a long term basis?”

Wolcott held a great admiration for Helena Wells. Her skills were beyond reproach and she had saved him from many a dire situation over the past several years. He would gladly be paired with the rising star of Warehouse 12.

“I would be thrilled sir,” Wolcott spoke first.

“As would I,” Helena beamed. “We make an excellent team.”

 

 

“Do you remember,” Helena looked over at him, “do you remember when we became partners?”

“Of course,” he smiled. “I was quite happy.”

“And now?” Helena asked, shifting on the small cot as much as the manacles would allow. She was to be bronzed later that day and had requested her last visit be from Wolly. Chataranga would have been far too painful.

“You will always be my partner in so many ways Helena,” Wolcott smiled sadly. “I only wish there was another way.”

“McShane’s life was lost due to my foolishness Wolly,” Helena sighed. “This is the only solution.” She looked over at her friend. “I am sorry for what I’ve put you through.”

“Nonsense,” Wolly fought back tears. He would be strong for Helena during their final hours together.  “You are my partner. My friend. You have saved me in countless ways Helena Wells.”

“I will miss you terribly HG,” Wolcott continued, “but I know that when, and note I say when, you awaken from your long slumber you will see the days you have envisioned.  And the hole in your heart will be repaired.”

“I hope so Wolly, I hope so.”

“I know so,” He smiled, allowing the tears to fall. “I look in your eyes and see better days ahead.”

 

 

“This is it,” the American, Brisbane looked over.  “These bronze statues are the last to go.”

Wolcott scanned the manifest, swallowing hard at reading HG’s name on the list.  With a flick of a pen he crossed it off before he handed it over to the American Agent.

“Quite a rogues gallery eh?” the young man asked. “Worst of the worst from what I’m told.”

“Or something like that,” Wolcott looked over at HG as she was boxed up by the moving team. 

“Come again?”

“Nothing, just be careful. We don’t want to lose another shipment. We spent many years capturing these curiosities for Warehouse 12. They need to make it safely to Warehouse 13.”

“Oh no,” Brisbane shook his head. “Mrs. Fredrick will kill us if we do. This one will make it to America safe and sound.”


	31. Goodbye Iowa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So all we have to do is find this The Messenger character and grab the knife before he makes it to Count Flume’s tomb,” Willow concluded. “Snag the knife, save the world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's that continuation of the Buffy/Warehouse cracky times fic you didn't know you wanted. Sigh, what am I even doing?

They had stayed late researching the pending apocalypse. Myka had to hand it to the rag tag bunch of mostly teenagers and the way they handled the end of the world.   She’d been with the Warehouse for years and still wasn’t quite used to it.

“So from what I gather,” Willow explained, placing the giant book in front of the Agent and the Watcher, “the perfect astrological alignment occurs at 5:58am on Sunday morning.”

Myka heard Pete’s head thud with the table across the room.

“So early,” her partner whined.

“The end of the world waits for no man,” Xander nodded his direction. “At least Foo’s Donuts opens at 5am.”

“Are they good?” Pete asked his young friend.

“The best.”

Myka and Willow rolled their eyes as their best friend’s fist bumped.

“Yes, a dozen assorted to celebrate the end of the world,” Giles quipped. “Splendid.”

“I’m a growing boy,” Xander replied.

“Anyway,” Myka shot Pete a glare, “You were saying?”

“Okay,” Willow was in her element. She could tell that Agent Bering was someone who appreciated her hard work. “The key, from what I’ve found…”

The Library doors bust open. Willow stopped instantly, having had too many awkward instances of covering something supernatural to the students of Sunnydale High.

“How goes the research?” Buffy asked as she plopped down next to Xander.  “Any news?”

“Willow was about to explain her findings,” Myka couldn’t help but note the trail of sweat that made its way from HG’s neck to her chest. Bored, Buffy had wanted to go train and Helena was more than willing to test her Kenpo skills against a Slayer.

“Excellent,” HG grinned, raising an eyebrow at Myka’s obvious perusal of her current state.

“How did it go Buffster,” Xander asked. “Did you kick some Victorian ass?”

“Hardly,” HG snorted. “Do keep in mind I was battling the supernatural when your great grandfathers were in swaddling clothes.”

“Swan what?”

“Never mind,” Buffy cut in. “Mutual ass was kicked.  What’s the what on this apocalypse of the week? I’ve got a quiz tomorrow in English I need to cram.”

The group listened while Willow explained what she’d found, with Giles chiming in every now and then for clarification. Myka couldn’t help but be reminded of Artie and Claudia as the duo explained a complex concept with ease.  As disconcerting as this case was, the unique group here in Sunnydale had their own dynamic that reminded her of her own dysfunctional family.

“So all we have to do is find this The Messenger character and grab the knife before he makes it to Count Flume’s tomb,” Willow concluded.  “Snag the knife, save the world.”

“Is this guy in town,” Buffy asked.

“Not quite sure,” Willow looked through her notes, “but I’ve got a few ideas.”

“Let me see those names,” Myka grabbed Willow’s list. “We’ve got someone who can track their movements.”

“A hacker? Awesome!” Willow smiled.  

“Claudia is far more than that,” Helena pulled the list from Myka’s hand with ease; “I’ll give her a call with these names. Excellent work Miss Rosenberg.”

Willow blushed slightly at the praise.

“While your Claudia researches, I suggest we adjourn for the evening,” Giles looked over the group. “We have three days to prepare…”

“So rest accordingly,” Buffy, Willow and Xander and finished in unison.  Myka bit her cheek to keep from laughing.

As crazy as things seemed, she knew things would work out for the best. Apocalypse be damned.


	32. Don’t judge a book by its cover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flat on a road out of a small Chapel on the outskirts of Denton leads to interesting discoveries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Put this squarely in the corner of crack!fic fuel by Monday night drinking. And say hell to a Rocky Horror AU.

“So there’s a party here tonight?” Myka gave Pete a nervous glance.

“Oh yes,” the butler, a Mr. Nielson grinned, “the Master is revealing her creation tonight.”

“Well that sound fantastic,” Pete looked from the butler to the maid. “But we wouldn’t want to interrupt the festivities.”

“It’s no bother,” the red headed maid, Claudia smirked. “We lucky to have you.”

“I’m lucky, you’re lucky, we’re all lucky,” the housekeeper, Leena cooed. “HG will be pleased to have additional guests.”

“Okay,” Myka gave a nervous smile. She could tell by the way the maid and the housekeeper interacted that this event was well out of her comfort zone.

“All we need is a phone,” Pete explained. “And we’ll be on our way.”

“Nonsense,” Mr. Nielson grinned. “You came to this place because it was a light in the darkness.  We will definitely help you see you on your path.”

“It’s just a jump to the left,” Claudia put her hands on her hips.

“And a step to the right,” Leena added.

“Okay,” Pete swallowed hard.

Myka closed her eyes briefly to clear her mind. They had a flat a few miles out of Denton and needed to call a service because the spare in their rental car was shot. She was not prepared to deal with what she was seeing as Mr. Nielson danced around with Leena and Claudia.

“This is weird Mykes.” Pete murmured as they stepped away from the servant trio.

“Agreed, let’s make for the car.”

Neither of the Agents heard the elevator reach the ground floor behind them.

“How do you do,” a crisp accented voice caused the pair to jump suddenly.

Myka swallowed taking in the corseted figure before her.

“Don’t get strung out by,” the woman smirked, “by the way I look.  I’m one hell of a lover,” the dark haired woman gave a predatory smile Myka’s direction, “call me Helena.”


	33. I miss the way the night comes with friends that always make it feel good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Present company, expect it, present company  
> Just laugh it off, it's better than it seems

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A fluffy bit full of references to things from my own experiences. Suddenly feeling sentimental, what can I say.

“Are we sure this is the best plan?” Steve looked over at Claudia.

“Myka came up with it, so you know it’s solid.”

“Next up we have the Professor and Shoops,” Brad the announcer crooned.  “Get ready for a modern classic.”

Steve couldn’t help but roll his eyes at their stage names. Too many late night viewings of The Music Man had brought that on.

There was a smattering of applause as the pair approached the stage.

 

The Bear’s Den wasn’t more than a hole in the wall college dive bar in Bloomington, Indiana but it had become a focus for Warehouse activity. Artie suspect that both Daisuke Inoue’s original karaoke machine as well as Denny Terrio’s dancing shoes were working together. Several students had been hospitalized due to exhaustion after a $3 Long Island Iced Tea Mini Pitcher Thursdays at the bar.

At first glance one would assume that it was the combination of potent drinks and youth that was causing the injuries. But when the students, and a few townies, reported the inability to stop dancing, the team knew an artifact was in play.

 

Pete had picked the worst time to leave for the bathroom as Claudia and Steve were called up to sing. Myka hoped that she and HG would be able to snag and bag the artifact before things got out of hand. She wasn’t keen on displaying her questionable dancing skills.

“Are you ready?” Myka looked over at HG, “things are about to get crazy.”

“Of course,” HG smirked. “I am me.”

Myka rolled her eyes and smiled at the same time.

 

Luckily the song Claudia had picked started out slow, giving the pair a chance to observe the crowd. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, with many of the kids not even paying attention to what was going on stage.

And then it happened.

Later, when she was filling out the report about what had occurred, Myka would describe an uncontrollable urge to dance. Steve had hopped on a table belting out lyrics while Claudia mocked the fake video that played as background. Myka didn’t remember any of that. She vaguely recalled dancing with a tall man with a beard and a Hispanic woman with dark hair briefly. But her gyrating with HG had brought the house down.  She and her partner had many offers for late night activities and Frat parties when the bar closed that night.

Pete, somehow unaffected by the artifact, had produced several pictures as proof (and for blackmail). Myka later learned that Helena had copies of every one. 


	34. Touch Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabble from this Tumblr prompt: REDIC 80s AU BERING AND WELLS WITH THE BIGGEST HAIR AND SHOULDER PADS EVER. 
> 
> So here you go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my unnaturally extensive knowledge of Samantha Fox songs for this.

Myka turned up her Samantha Fox cassette to drown out the rerun of Family Ties that Tracy had blasting from her room. Pete had told her about a massive party at Steve’s house since his parents were out of town. It was Saturday night and there was no way Myka was going to stay in.  She grinned, singing along with Touch Me as she put on the bright green mesh top over her torn Banarama concert T, thinking of her upcoming date with Helena.

With a final tease of her bangs, coated with a protective layer of Aqua Net, Myka made her hair was as big as possible. She slipped on her ballet shoes, grabbed her favorite acid wash denim jacket and danced down the stairs.

"By mom, dad," she called to her parents in the living room. "Don’t wait up."

Her girlfriend was waiting outside, leaned up against her parent’s Taurus, looking hot in her tight white demin jeans and jet black half length jacket. Myka grinned, running her hands up HG’s arms, to rest on her padded shoulders. 

"Is this new?" she asked, stepping closer.

"Got it at The Limited today," HG smiled. "Do you like it?"

"It’s very," Myka leaned in for a kiss.


	35. For King and Country

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another tumblr prompt that turned into an angst drabble: Bering and Wells, Elizabethan England

The rain had been falling all day, casting London in a dreary gray. Despite the solemn circumstances that had brought them all together, part of her had hoped for a bright sun to match Myka’s beautiful smile. She often remembered that day on the estate where she and Myka had shared a picnic lunch while Christina chased butterflies. 

The day where Myka had spoke about love, honor and forever. 

As Helena sat in her favorite chair starring out at the darkening London skyline, she draped herself in that memory. Using it as a shield against the harsh realities of her world.

She heard the door to the library open and close. 

"Helena," William, her best friend spoke softly, "the Prime Minister is here to pay his respects."

"Good," she rasped. "Good," she paused, clutching the letter from Myka’s commanding officer, Captain Lattimer, that spoke of her beloved’s great sacrifice for the Crown. "I’ll be out shortly."

Helena sank back into the memories of that perfect day so many years ago, feeling the sunlight on her face. For just one moment more.


	36. It’s another thing to serve them a wake-up cup full of liquid drainer.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is without a prompt thanks to my mind now being stuck in the 80s. And here I thought that the AU fics couldn't get any more cray.
> 
> I give you Bering and Wells set in the Heathers universe.

Myka thrust the monocle into her eye and clutched her diary tightly. Today in the caf Heather Duke had pushed her to the limit. She was tired of using her genius IQ for selecting the best lip gloss to go with her Swatch or how many keggers she could hit before curfew.

_Dear Diary_ , she scratched out, _my teenage angst bullshit has a body count…_

Myka began to paint a picture of corn nuts, college parties and how she had paid someone in puke thanks to a lunchtime pole that had brought her before recent transfer HG.  A charismatic slightly psychopathic friend/lover that had set her on the path to redemption, or destruction.

It was too soon to tell since the demise of Heather Chandler had brought forth Heather Duke as the bitch heir apparent, given the fact she’d started wearing red.

“Hello darling,” HG’s smooth voice broke Myka out of her personal ravings. The British transfer student had become quite adept at scaling the garden wall to her bedroom.

“Hey.”

“Now that’s not quite the greeting I was expecting,” HG pulled herself fully into the bedroom “Are you well?”

Myka sighed, “I just killed my best friend.”

HG shook her head, “And your worst enemy.”

“Same difference.”


	37. And then the crazy came to town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gathering of various prompts via tumblr collected into one chapter. Get ready for random.

Lyric prompt 1

_Another challenging one, featuring lyrics from John Newman, Rhye, Edward Sharp and the Magnetic Zeros, Dead Man’s Bones and Elliphant._

The dust and debris swirled and settled around them. Myka looked to Pete and Helena, each gasping as she held the static bag holding the artifact. 

"We are knee deep in a pile of shit Mykes," Pete looked around at the desolation around them. This one the first of three doomsday artifacts that needed to be caught. 

Down the street, cars burned. 

"We need to move," HG spoke softly. "Call Artie. Gather our bearings and figure out our next move" 

"Agreed," Myka made sure the bag was sealed. "Let’s go."

After a meal and shower, the Agents found themselves feeling a bit more human. Pete had sat with them for some time going over possible plans but eventually returned to his room to catch up on sleep. Artie had booked them for a flight the following day.

"Are you okay?" Myka watched the Victorian closely. She knew that a mission like this, so soon after the Minoan Trident incident would be a tough one. She pulled the other woman into her arms.

"You know I’ve done wrong," Helena swallowed, burying her face in Myka’s neck. "Left your heart torn…

"I know," Myka held her love tighter. "But I’ve seen better days," she sighed. 

"Make love to me," Helena lifted her head from Myka’s shoulder.

 

Lyric promt 2:

_Featuring lyrics by Kendrick Lamar, The Cure, The Birds of Night and Donna Summer. Yes, this was tough._

Claudia yawned, glancing over at her partner seated next to her on the tiny airplane. An early morning ping and pulled both the techie and HG out of slumber and sent them on their way to Spokane. 

It didn’t help that her room shared a wall with the enigmatic Warehouse 12 agent. And that she had arrived home late that evening after a date with her soon to be wife and fellow agent, Myka Bering.

"So, she got you up all night?" Claudia asked.

HG grinned. “Oh yes,” she blushed recalling Myka’s words as soon as the bedroom door had shut.

_Show me how you do that trick, she said. The one that makes me scream, she said._

"Are you now considering switching rooms with someone?" HG asked, quirking a brow.

"Fuck that," the red head replied. "Moving is a bitch."

"Agreed."

"You two give me hope," Claudia grinned. "How can I not want to be close to that?"

"The days are still golden, in that I know," HG smiled. "And I hope they shall remain so."

 

Random Propmt 1:

Bering and Wells as Knights

"Captain!" HG’s head whipped around at the sound of Wolcott’s voice.

"What’s the word?" 

"The scouts report that Skyes is on the move, heading for Three Shanks."

"He’s on the run," Catarangua checked the map before him, "we should be able to corner what remains of his forces at the river."

"And end his reign once and for all," McShane hit the table with his fist. 

"Patience good friends," HG slipped her fingers through her loose dark hair. "We have yet to hear from the scouts on the other side of the river. If they speak the same word, we attack at dawn."

The Donovan siblings had returned with the same information, the soon to be former king was trapped. What remained of his forces huddled in what was left of the once mighty fortress, now known as Three Shanks with an overflowing river cutting off his only other escape route.

Captain Helena HG Wells was not a fan of siege warfare. She had been a young recruit when Sykes had ordered the capture of Sir MacPherson for crimes against the realm. The solider had sat for weeks on the outskirts of his keep, training and waiting while they slowly starved him out. It would have been beyond tedious if she hadn’t met Myka during that time. 

She swallowed, thinking of her love. Hoping against hope that things could end with peace.

The Captain and her party road up to the gates of Three Shanks under a white flag to discuss terms. King Walter Sykes was a monster, but not all of the people who served him were. This was to be their final chance to surrender.

"I come with Queen Fredrick’s terms," HG called out. "Now is your final chance to surrender and leave this place in peace."

The group waited as the gate was slowly opened. Of course Sykes would send his best officer out to respond to the request. 

Helena couldn’t help but smile at seeing her love for the first time in many months. Her chest swelled as the grin was returned. The love they still felt a palpable thing between them.

"And what say you," Wolcott spoke from HG left. "To the discussion of terms of surrender?"

The smile faded from Myka’s face as she looked over at her dear friend. 

"The King," Myka swallowed hard, returning her gaze to Helena’s face. "the King refuses all terms and orders the surrender of the traitors."

"Myka," Helena couldn’t hide the desperation in her voice. "Please, my love, it’s not too late."

Myka smiled sadly, “I’m sorry my love.” She spurred her horse forward pulling along side the other woman, kissing her fiercely.

"I love you,"  Helena whispered as they pulled apart.

With a nod, the other woman turned the horse around and rode into the castle

"Catapults forward!" HG’s voice rang out as she rode away from the gate. 

 

Random prompt 2

Fright Night AU

"Romania is fine Pete," Myka held the phone between her shoulder and cheek as she flipped through the lesson plan before her. At the last minute she’d been called to TA for study abroad Art History class. Normally she would’ve never said yes to something like this but she needed to get away from the States for a bit.

And a six month stint as a teaching assistant grading papers, working on her doctoral thesis and taking weekend trips across Europe would be a good way find herself again.

"No," Myka rolled her eyes, "I don’t know if Professor Wells is hot, we’ve never met. She’s smart though, her thesis on Baroque and early Classical sculpture is a must read."

Myka laughed, “yes, Pete a must read for nerds like me.”

There was a knock on her office door. “Pete, my appointment is here. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

"Come in," she called, looking down to slip her cell phone into a desk drawer.

"Myka Bering?" a smooth English voiced asked.

"Yes," her head snapped up and her mouth suddenly went dry. "That’s, that’s me," she stuttered.

"Helena Wells," the professor extended a pale hand. Myka shook it, barely registering how cold it was. "I have heard so many good things about you Miss Bering."

Myka swallowed as the shorter woman gave her a wicked grin. “I look forward to closely working with you this semester.”


	38. Do you ever get that fear that you can’t shift the tide that sticks around like summat in your teeth?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If this feeling flows both ways?  
> (Sad to see you go)  
> Was sort of hoping that you'd stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some sort of corporate AU. Yes, I've spent a lot of time thinking about work lately.

“Do you know her?”

“Who?’

“That woman over there that’s been looking at you all night.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

He rolls his eyes. “Are we going to play this game? Because I know and it’s totally cool.” Pause “Well actually hot.”

“You are such a Neanderthal sometimes.”

He grins at you and you blush. Because he’s right.

 

 

“So how long are you going to stand there and ogle your competition?”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Come now. I’ve known you for too long.”

Eye roll. “Yes, she is part of the team that was acquired in the merger and has a similar job to myself, but really. Must we go to that old catfight stereotype? Do you even know me?”

Snort. “Of course I know you. The looks you’re sending her have nothing to do with the merger or infighting.”

You sip your vodka martini as a reply.

 

 

“Scotch neat.”

“And a vodka martini as dirty as they come. Put it on my tab.”

The red headed bartender nods.

“You don’t have to do that.”

Smirk. “I insist.”

“I know who you are.”

“I would expect no less.” You smirk. “We are very similar, you and I.”

“Or so you’ve been told.”

“I know you’ve heard the same,” you say, “why play the game everyone expects us to play in situation.” You take a step closer. “Let’s change the rules.”

 

You look over at this woman who is alluring in her presence and intriguing in her stature. And she is your competition. This merger, this fucking merger, has thrown your world for a loop. The security and planning that you’d grown accustomed to are suddenly in chaos.  Ultimately you know that what you do is far too similar and that one of you will have to either adapt or perish. 

And it might have been some time since those signals had been sent your way, but you are receiving them loud at clear. Because she’s right. You’ve felt that pull for some time now.

 

So you step closer and watch her eyes darken just a bit. “And what rules are you interested in changing?”

She smirks, blindly reaching over to collect both your drinks. “Follow me and I’ll show you a world of endless wonder.”

You chuckle. “Not all wonder is endless.”

 

You smile at that. She’s the pragmatist you expected. “I beg to differ. No come along, no dawdling.”


	39. This is not what you wanted, what you wanted for me, I know that much now, my apologies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One job too many.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying something a bit different with this AU drabble. Please let me know if it works. Happy angst!

“Tell me about what happened,” she asks, moving a strand of dark blonde hair off her face.  The Doc isn’t one to be lied to and she knows it.

“I’m not sure,” you stumble over your words, unsure of what to say.

“You, really?” a sculpted eyebrow raises. “I find that hard to believe.”

You sigh, sinking your tall frame further into the broken down chair.

“We’ve been doing this for too long for you to pull that rookie shit on me Mob.”

“I know.”

Your boss stands, commanding the room with her petite frame and $5000 suit. The daughter of a mobster, raised in high society, she was as smart as they come and three times as deadly. You’d heard that the Doc was an actual doctor but had decided to take on daddy’s organization when her old man kicked the buck.  She leans on the corner of her desk in front of you; arms crossed and gives you a look that has zero tolerance for bullshit.

“It was different,” you lean forward, resting your elbows on your knees, staring at the frayed dingy green carpet.  “They were different. I didn’t know there was a kid involved.”

Silence greets you and you sort the images of your latest target in your head.

She was a widow with just enough money to make her interesting to the Doc and her crew. And you were still reeling from Pete’s abrupt departure for bending one too many rules.  So you took this case, the Widow, ready to be hustled for all that she was worth.  It was a solo job which was perfect given the fact your partner was now six feet under.

You worked yourself into the Widow’s world, with your Ivy League education to attract her brain and your charm to entice the leftovers. Slowly but surely the Widow fell under your spell as planned. And after a month or so you found yourselves falling into bed together after a day spent sailing in the Cape.

You’d slept with so many jobs during your tenure with the Doc that sex had lost all meaning.  You knew how to work both sexes well, but it had been years since you hadn’t faked an orgasm.

Then the Widow came along, rocking your world to the core. You didn’t have to fake it as she went down on you. Her thick, black hair trailing over your chest as she kissed down your body and settled in with a maneuver that had your hips surging off the bed.

That night (and the ones that followed) had been a revelation.

Solo missions. The Kid and the Russian had warned you. Don’t get emotionally involved. Get in, do your job, and get out.

The Widow had pulled you in with her mind and her body.  She pulled you in with the idea of home and family, something you’d forsaken years ago.  So much so it took a phone call from your employer eight months into the job to remind you about who you were.

“Why does it matter,” you say eventually. “What happened, how I fucked up?  You’re about to make me partners with Pete again in the afterlife.”

The Doc looks behind her and pulls a folder off of her desk, handing it to you without a word. Nodding for you to open it.

You can’t help the sob that violently escapes your body as you read about the tragic boating accident that took the life of the widow and her child two days ago off the Cape.

“You’re lucky,” the Doc moves back behind her desk. “She changed her Will two weeks ago. Congrats Mob, you’re rich. Even after my cut.”

You sit there and hyperventilate as she continues.

“And once I’ve got what I’m owed, you’re free. I can’t use you anymore Myka, you’re damaged goods.”

She looks down, dismissing you in your misery. “Go home and get yourself cleaned up. Time to play the heartbroken widow.”

Standing slowly, you know there won’t be any acting involved for this last job.


	40. Once we were standing still in time, chasing the fantasies that filled our minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another Wells and Wolcott drabble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there was a bit of confirmed head cannon from this weekend's con about HG being Warehouse 12's version of Claudia. So here you go. Thanks for reading.

Wolcott paused at the door to Chataranga’s office. HG was standing at the window that faced the Thames, arms crossed at her waist with an inscrutable expression on her face.  They had been gone for nearly six months on a difficult retrieval in Siam, traveling throughout the country on the hunt for a bowl from the Ayutthaya period. A bowl which could bring the very ill back to life.

For a steep price.

In the half year they’d been gone much had happened in London. Charles had completed and published The Invisible Man to great acclaim, their dear friend Oscar had finally be released from prison, fleeing to parts not yet known.

And plans had been made to move the Warehouse to America.  Chataranga had informed the day after they had returned with the bowl.  An Irene Fredrick would be coming sometime in the next fortnight to learn the ways of the warehouse and be thirteen’s version of their mentor.

“How long were you planning to lurk in the doorway Wolly?”

“As long as necessary,” he replied. “I see you’re in a mood.”

“I am.”

Wolcott had always considered his fellow agent a friend. Their harrowing adventure together had added a new depth to their relationship. One of great candor.

“And what has brought on these sour times?” he quipped, setting into a stuffed chair on next to a cluttered desk. 

“Warehouse 13.”

“The new Warehouse?”

“Yes.”

“Whatever for,” he paused, wishing she would turn and face him. “It is years before completion.  I’m not pleased with the choice of the United States, but we will adapt as we always do.”

Helena turned finally to meet his gaze.

“They have proposed I become its Caretaker.”

The retort died in Wolcott’s mouth at the look of fear in his friend’s eyes.

“What of Mr. McGivens?” he asked.

“It seems that the office of Caretaker is non transferrable. “

“HG,” he stood and smiled, “Helena, what an honor.”

“And a burden,” she ran a hand through her dark hair. “I had hoped that after our ordeal we would be granted some time away but Chataranga insists that I begin my work with Mr. McGivens immediately in preparation for the new Warehouse.”

Wolcott moved to sit on the corner of the desk nearest to HG as the woman turned to face the window again.

“My mind is filled with thoughts of the past, of Christina. Of being surrounded by such wonderment and knowing that my daughter remains lost to me for all time.”

“Well, perhaps in the future their might be some way to see her again,” Wolcott offered. “And you will be privy to all that the upcoming twentieth century has in store.  Think of the marvelous inventions that you will create.” He smiled.  “You future will surely be a glorious one. I only wish I would be there to see all of it.”

He stood after a moment, leaving HG to her musings and making a mental note to speak with Chataranga as soon as possible about assisting with the move to Warehouse 13. As one of the most senior Agents of Warehouse 12 it would only be appropriate if he were selected. 


	41. Hey you bring me down to love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The big dance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's a super fluffy installment for Valentine's Day with appearances by a large portion of the team. Thanks for reading.

Steve adjusted his bow tie and checked himself over for a final time in the mirror.  The suit, selected with input from both his roommate and his best friend looked great. And the vintage bowtie suggested by HG was a nice touch.

He heard the other bedroom door open and close, signaling HG was finally ready to head out. Grabbing his keys and wallet he flicked off the light switch and joined the woman in the living room.

“Here, let me,” Steve walked over to his roommate to help her adjust the fabric folded in her pocket.  Of course HG had picked a vintage style waistcoat to go with her crisp dark blue shirt.  He was surprised there wasn’t a gold pocket watch complete with chain to go with the outfit.

“Rocking the 1890s look tonight.” He grinned. “Bold.”

“Your wit remains elusive Steven, even after all these years.”

“I like your vintage look,” Steve stepped back making sure the pocket handkerchief was straight.  “And I’m sure Myka will love it.”

“I’m hoping so.”

 

The annual Valentine’s Day dance at the Resource Center was in full swing.  The Center was the largest in the tri county area and had become a haven for people of all ages in need of a helping hand or a shoulder to cry on.  Steve and HG had met here in a support group six years ago. Steve was dealing with the death of his partner Liam, HG (Helena to her close friends) wit h the death of her daughter.  They had formed a fast friendship and became roommates soon after.

“What’s up party people?”

“Hey Claude,” Steve pulled his best friend into a hug.  “Things seem to be hopping.”

“Yep,” the red head grinned. “Leena’s on point tonight.”

The trio looked to the front of the large room where Claudia’s girlfriend was DJ for the ever growing party.

“And let me get a look at you Miss Wells,” Claudia stood back, apprising her friend’s look. “I’d give it a 9.8”

“Thank you,” HG shook her head. “I’m glad you approve.”

“Oh I do,” Claudia smirked. “And so will she.”

 

She, better known as Myka Bering, new volunteer to the Resource Center, did indeed like the look. She stood near the snack table with her friend Abigail and Abby's boyfriend Pete. 

“HG is looking good tonight,” Pete waggled his eyebrows.

“Yeah she is,” Myka mumbled right before she took a sip of punch.

“And so are you,” Abigail offered her support. “So go over there and say hi. Isn’t tonight supposed to be the third date?”

“Yeah Mykes,” Pete waved in HG’s direction. “Say goodbye to us old marrieds and go get your girl.”

 

As if they’d planned it, HG and Myka broke away from their friends at the same time.

“Hi,” Myka smiled.

“Hello.”  HG’s dark eyed sparkled.

“Would you care to dance?”

“I’d love to.”

 

Claudia let out a little squeal as she watched HG pull Myka closer to her as the pair danced.  Pete gave Abigail a low five when Myka leaned in and rested her head on HG’s shoulder.

Steve would have had his own reaction if he wasn’t suddenly distracted by a dapper looking man with short dark hair and bright blue eyes.  He wondered if this was the new events director, William Wolcott, making his first appearance.  

He glanced over at the dance floor where HG and Myka were making out. 

They’d be fine, he surmised. But Wolcott looked like he could use a hand. 


	42. Like the author

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting used to the Warehouse takes time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's a AU set in the future of Warehouse 13. Also it's implied angst. Thanks for reading.

Diego brushed his wavy black hair out of his eyes. It was time for a haircut, that much was sure, but he had yet to find a barber in the small town that knew how to deal with his type of hair.  
   
It was almost ponytail length, he supposed. He could survive for a few more weeks.  
   
"What's up D-train!"   
   
He barely managed to stay in his chair when the voice boomed from behind him. Despite been part of the Warehouse team for six months, he had yet to adjust to the Caretaker's sudden appearance.  
   
"Hello Miss Claudia," he greeted.   
   
"I told you to stop calling me that," rolling her eyes, she plopped down in front of a computer terminal. "I'm too young to be Miss anything yet."

“So says the most successful Caretaker in the history of the Warehouse.”

“This is true,” Claudia spun on around on her chair. “But compliments still won’t keep you from doing inventory today.”

Diego’s lowered his chin to his chest, his thick dark hair hiding the pained expression on his face.

 

He had thought that standing guard for hours on end while the President went about his business was dull but it had nothing on inventory. When Claudia had appeared suddenly in his apartment one morning offering up a world of endless wonder he jumped at the chance. Many years ago his Aunt had talked about her time spent in the unassuming Univille and the weird goings on out at the IRS warehouse. The stories were always mixed with a tinge of sadness, but Diego loved them none the less.

“This,” he said as he checked off another item on the clipboard. “Is the dullest thing I think I’ve ever done.”

“You get used to it,” Diego’s partner for the day, Steve replied. “I’m not fond of inventory either but over the years I’ve grown to appreciate the down time.”

“You don’t say,” Diego moved further down the aisle. Casting a glance back to the grey haired man. “I can’t imagine every growing to like this.”

“I didn’t say like,” Steve shook his head. “Appreciate.”

“Whatever old man.”

 

“And look whose back!”

“Hey Diego,” Adelaide gave him a high five. “Did you miss me?”

“Of course,” he plopped down at his desk. “How was the snag and bag?”

“An easy one,” she held up the silver container. Diego had become friends with the FBI profiler while doing some training at Quantico. They had even dated briefly before deciding friendship was best. He had lost track of the Agent a few years ago, only to find her in South Dakota working at the Warehouse.

“I love auctions.” she leaned on the corner of his desk.  

“Good you’re back,” Claudia entered the office with Steve in tow.  “I’m going to need both of you to handle this next case.”

“A ping?” Diego sat up excitedly.

“Not exactly,” the red head shared a look with the other Agents.

 

“What are we doing out here?” Diego asked as he followed Adelaide through a rusted gate. He was on edge from the moment they got out of the car.  It didn’t help that his hands were full.

“You’ll see,” Adelaide didn’t look back and he had to hurry to keep up with her.

“This doesn’t seem very Warehouse-y,” he commented, trying not to stumble over an overgrown root. “More like creepy.”

After a few more moments of listening to her partner complain, Adelaide stopped walking.

“Do you know why you were called to join Warehouse 13?”

“You guys needed help. Heck, we could use even more help.”

“That’s only part of the reason,” she sighed. “We lost an Agent.”

“I didn’t know.”

“It’s something we don’t like to talk about,” she turned and began walking again. “The downside for us. There’s a saying about Agents ending  up either crazy, evil or dead. And as much as Claudia doesn’t want to admit it, it’s true.”

“So what happened?”

“A snag gone wrong.”

“And?”

“Let’s just leave it at that for now, okay?”

 

For such a small town, the Univille Cemetery was surprisingly large. The pair had  walked in silence for a good fifteen minutes before arriving at the gravesite.

“This is our section,” Adelaide looked over the row of tombstones. She had spent many hours out here with Helena, tending to all of the markers. David Bisbee was the first, dated in 1932, followed by a series of others. Some of the names she recognized, like Jack Secord, whose remains had been placed here after being discovered on an artifact hunt. Other’s she knew personally, like Arthur Nielson, though retired when she’d joined Warehouse 13, spent plenty of hours there assisting Claudia.

There was one she felt like she knew thanks to her mentor’s fond stories of times spent together. She had only met Myka Bering once when she and her partner Pete Lattimer had traveled to Boone. The imposing Agent had died a few years later of Cancer.

The female Agent stepped forward and took the floral arrangement out of Diego’s hands. He watched as the young woman knelt down next to the newest looking of the tombstones, right next to one of a Myka Bering.

“HG Wells,” Diego stood with his hands on his hips. “Like the author?”

“Yes, like the author.” 


	43. You need to tell someone how you feel  and you think your happiness is real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drinks at a conference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chock this up under the cray/wtf category. Because here's that Rizzoli and Isles/Warehouse 13 crossover that I never thought I'd write. I haven't watched Rizzles in some time, so if Maura's voice is wrong I apologize.

“What are you doing here? Really?”

Emily ran a hand through her hair. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I mean,” Maura leaned in, swirling the olives in her dirty martini, “here. At this conference. Something’s happened.”

Maura took Emily’s silence as permission to continue.

“I’d consider us colleagues, friends even,” she smiled shyly, thinking of the tryst they’d shared six months ago in Los Angeles.  “And despite my mostly academic knowledge of social interaction, even I can see that you are a charming fake.” She shook her head. “Scratch that. Not a fake per say, but a cleaver forger. You have the overall skills but not the details for a Forensic Scientist.”

Emily squirmed in her seat.

“But after reading your paper in last month’s journal, I know that you have the talent. And until tonight you had the charm to make me forget. So again I ask, what are you doing her Emily? Or more appropriately, what happened to break the façade?”

Emily practically drained her vodka tonic before speaking.  She had never really claimed her right to her One. Nate and Adelaide would never qualify, she now knew.

“My past,” Emily began,” my past came back two weeks ago.”

“And you’d rather forget?”

“I thought I did,” she looked Maura in the eye. “Have you ever done something so utterly unforgivable that you fear those most dear to you are irrevocably lost? Only to find that you’d been forgiven? And that your heart, the muscle you’d abandoned many years ago had once again learned to beat again to the drum of love?”

“I have.” Maura thought back to a dirty warehouse and a case gone wrong.

“And were you able to make amends?”

“After a time, but you’re deflecting Emily.”

“My name isn’t Emily,” she raised her hand, signaling for another round of drinks.

“Really?” Maura raised a perfectly sculpted brow.

“It’s Helena,” Emily smiled. “But you may be more familiar with my pen name.”

“A writer,” the blonde woman smiled. “Somehow I’m not surprised.”

“Oh you will be.”


	44. But when I make a move , you know it’s loud as fuck, and if you wanna scream, get as loud as fuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Said nothing will ever be... ever be the same, when you're finished  
> I freed a couple of souls, just yesterday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another 80s AU brought to you by some Modern 80s jams on repeat. 
> 
> Make sure and check out the insane playlist for this fic at http://8tracks.com/mfangeleeta/the-vodka-made-me-do-it on 8 tracks to get the full effect.

She loved the nights away. The nights where she could forget who she was, what she did for a living, and disappear into the masses.   There were no rules, no limits to the amount of money, sex or blow she could do.

And it was glorious.

She loved New York but the City of Angels always held more appeal. Or at least more starlets willing to fall for some charm and  well earned cash.  Helena  Wells had made several millions on the stock market and had no one to spend it on, save herself.  And that return on investment was questionable at best.

So why save for the future when you could live for today?

The valets had nearly broken into a fist fight when  she pulled into the club’s parking lot in a Lamborghini. It was a loner from her pal Sly while he was on vacation in Bali. He loved the car for its chick magnet qualities.  She loved it because it helped her forget.

It was 12:25 on a Friday night and the feeding ground was filled. Helena didn’t hide from the truth. She was a shark in a sea of tuna, ready to find the choicest cut of meat to sink her teeth into for the night. The Broker would head back to her desk at Stratton Oakmont in a couple of days, but she wanted, no needed, one more night to help tied her through.

She leisurely made her way through the club, refusing drinks from the multitude of Don Johnson wannabes that crawled out of the woodwork on a night like this.  Men, such Neanderthals.  She was in the market for a higher quality one night stand.

She drained the last of her vodka soda, about to move on, when she saw her.  Dark curls cascaded onto bare shoulders.  Pale skin, fitted tightly into a vintage Halston dress-a daring choice given the designers recent career choices- that accentuated the woman’s assets. And there were plenty.

Helena smirked as she watched the beauty refuse a drink from a would be suitor in the manner the millionaire would have used.

Helena was compelled to try her luck. This woman was exactly what she was looking for.

“May I buy you a drink?” Helena asked, emphasizing her accent.

“Perhaps,” the woman replied with a smirk. “Will it lead to another?”

“One can only hope.” She signaled to the bartender.  “And after that?”

“We shall see,” the taller woman turned slightly and assessed Helena. “I don’t come cheap.”

“I would hope not.”

Sharp teeth bit a lip. “I’m Myka.”


	45. And if you know me well I don’t like to talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was tired of lies and pressed for time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warehouse AU in which HG had settled in Boone with the Astrolabe when the sweating sickness hit. Let's just say things didn't go so well for the world from that point on. So in other words, post apocalyptic Warehouse AU is a go.

Cole looked over at his silent partner, wishing the dark haired woman would open up to him just a little.  You’d have to be a blind man not notice that the job they’d just pulled bothered her more than the rest.

“It’s a long ride back to the base,” he drawled, “are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Alright,” he pushed back a dirty blonde bang.  He had lost his hair tie somewhere along the way. 

The beat up truck rattled along in silence again, Cole splitting his attention between the countryside and his companion.  Even after so many years after that sweating plague had taken out half of humanity, you could still stumble upon pristine remnants of the old world. He smiled, thinking about that unopened case of Tito’s at his apartment he’d found a couple of months ago in the back of a junked out car.

“Those people,” he finally asked. “Those people back there. They seemed to know you. From before.”

“They did.”

“When you were the cop?”

“I was never a cop,” she managed a smirk at that one. “You know that.”

“Sorry, when you were an Agent.”

“Thank you.”

“So did they know you then?”

She sighed, running and hand through her hair. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope.”

“Just like Wolly,” she murmured. “Fine.  I will tell you.” She turned partially in her seat to face her friend. “After I was an Agent, but before I became an Agent again I spent some time working in the lab for a police department in what was then Wisconsin. The woman you met today was the daughter of the man I dated briefly.”

“Did it end badly then? Is that why she gave you the cold shoulder?”

“No ending of a relationship is a good one.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged.  “Why’d you end it?”

“How did you know it was me?”

“If dad ended it Addie would have been more helpful.”

She shook her head. 

“So am I right.”

“Yes, I ended it. Soon after the sweating sickness came and I found myself an Agent once again.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“Come on kid,” she rolled her eyes at his term of endearment, “there’s more to this story than you’re telling me. Yeah, you left to try to stop the plague but there was something else there. I mean did this guy ask you to marry him or something? Did you cheat on him? Steal all his money? Boil the rabbit?”

Silence returned to the truck while HG planned her answer. He’d been partnered with Helena long enough to know she was working out what to say that would appease him for the time being without saying too much. He often wondered if it was a carryover from her Victorian upbringing or just part of her personality.

“I told him the truth,” she said quietly. “I told him that I’d realized that I was hiding from who I was, from what I was. And that I never really loved him. Adelaide overheard the entire conversation.”

“Man,” Cole shook his head, bangs falling into his eyes once more. “Way to keep it real.”

“I was tired of lies and pressed for time.”

The pair sank back into comfortable silence as the countryside stretched on. They had about five hours before they would be back home, not counting any detours or checks they might make.

“Wakey wakey kid,” HG pulled out of her light slumber quickly, feeling the truck slow. She quickly scanned the countryside, noticing a couple of cars parked down a side road. There was nothing surrounding the vehicles other than the waving grass that was slowly reclaiming the Great Plains.

“Didn’t see those on the way out,” Cole nodded towards the cars.

“It was dark,” HG agreed.

“Worth a look?”

HG reached behind the seat to grab an extra weapon and was out the door as soon as the truck stopped.

Cautiously the pair approached the semi rusted vehicles.

Cole moved forward, gun drawn to examine the cars. “All clear,” he called, motioning HG forward.

The interiors of both cars were destroyed but the trunks remained locked.

“Shall we?” Cole returned from the truck with a crow bar.

“You are hoping for more vodka.”

“Of course.”

She rolled her eyes and pulled her weapon just in case. After a moment of grunting, Cole popped the trunk.

Cole chuckled as HG’s eyes lit up at what they’d just discovered.  She quickly pulled out her Farnsworth.

“Darling,” she beamed as Myka’s face filled the screen. “You’ll never guess what Cole and I just found.”


	46. I’m not holding out for you, I’m still watching for the signs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot I've not forgotten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The third and final part in the Omega Man AU found in Chapters 12 and 16 of this series. Angst ahoy!

Myka sat up and stretched in a vain attempt to sooth her sore back. She’d managed to doze for part of the afternoon, lulled to sleep by the heat and the boredom.  Slowly she stood and began to pace, allowing her muscles to loosen.  She doubted there would be a chance for escape, but hope sprang eternal.

She replayed the events that night-the night when she’d failed for the last time.  It was eight days after she’s left a crying Helena in the shadows of a broken down store begging her to reconsider.  Eight nights of preparing, of being on an edge she hadn’t felt since the first news reports of a super flu. Of feeling the kind of pain she hadn’t experienced since Helena had talked about not feeling so well.

Pete, her partner of many years, had always warned her about getting too tight during a case. That if you held on too hard, you would break the thing you were trying to hold.  And in the week or so spent in what was once a storage shed, the former Secret Service Agent finally understood what he’d been saying all along.

All of her carefully laid plans, all of her back up plans, all of the things that kept her human had been swept away in a few hours of fighting. The books burned, the records smashed, the world ended to the sounds of laughter and cheers.  She’d seen Helena’s silhouette standing on top of the burned out Charger as angry hands pulled her out of the house and into the street. A filthy bag had cut off the view of the woman she had once loved with her entire soul.

Shaking herself, Myka resumed pacing.  The sun was setting and soon they would come to torment her with endless questions, endless theories of why she was immune, with endless nonsense that she cared nothing for. She had spent hours in silence as they prattled on, not paying attention to their threats.

Myka Bering was a lot of things, but a fool wasn’t one of them. She knew it was only a matter of time.

She’d almost dozed off again when she heard the click of the door being unlocked. It was a black night, with no hint of a moon showing through the shed’s small window. The only light came from the glow of torches outside her cell.

Of course she would come.

“You always were so stubborn,” Helena began. She closed the door behind her. “You know Kosan used to work for the Mukhabarat?” she grinned with pride. “And even he couldn’t get you to talk.”

“I have nothing to say to those things.”

“And what about to me,” Helena sat down on the floor, “do you wish to tell me anything?”

After an immeasurable silence, Myka finally spoke.

“I saw you from across the street,” she leaned against the wall, “from that Starbucks on Main. You were sitting in the window; glasses perched on your nose, engrossed in what you were reading.” Myka smiled at the memory. “My breath caught and I froze. The guy behind me spilled his drink on my shoes because I stopped walking right in front of him.  You were stunning.”

Myka smiled, pulling the first image she had of Helena to the front of her mind. “I remember thinking that I had a meeting in 20 minutes with Dickenson and Pete about the Macpherson case. That we had to plan strategy since the raid was about to go down,” she smiled. “And I didn’t care. I threw my coffee in the trash and crossed the street. I had to talk to you.”

“I nearly dropped that coffee twice as I made my way over to your table,” she met Helena’s eyes. “You were so beautiful, like something out of a novel I’d read as a kid. It didn’t register that you were reading God Created the Integers as light reading until days later. Because here was the woman of my dreams hiding in a mom and pop bookstore in the middle of the big city.”

Myka didn’t stop the tears as they fell from her eyes. “Part of me fell in love with you on that first night.”

“I know,” Helena swallowed, wiping her own tears from her cheeks.

“You’ll never be that woman,” Myka sighed. “That woman died in my arms. But if you were her, I would say that I’ve never stopped loving you.”

“I will always love you Myka Bering. And I will see you again.”

 

The door swung open.

“Time’s up HG,” a gruff male voice spoke from the darkness.

Resigned to her fate, Myka stood as calloused hands dragged her into the night.

As she was strapped to the pole on top of the pyre built in her honor, she couldn’t help but think of the brief kiss she’s shared with the thing that called itself her Helena in the shed.

It was almost as good as the real thing.

But not quite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always for reading! Always looking for constructive criticism, so even if you're reading as a guest please share your thoughts here, on twitter at MFAngeleeta or on Tumblr at MFAngeleeta. Thanks again.


	47. I’m paying now the penalty the unredeemed must ever pay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Working on a chain gang

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listening to The Handsome Family has brought forth this 30s AU which is a riff on the movie Cool Hand Luke. Yeah, I don't know either. Thanks for reading.

HG leaned on the scythe for a moment as she adjusted her hair back out of her eyes.  It’d been a few years since she’d been on a prison detail like this. After her first one in Alabama in ’28 she swore that any crime she’d get caught for would be up north.

But the call of easy money and easy women had pulled her down to Jacksonville. With her good looks, accent and card skills it had been a life of leisure in the Florida city for many months.  It was just bad luck that the brother of her latest dalliance happened to be a bail bondsman.  She rather liked Willy, so there were no hard feelings when he turned her in.

“Get back to work Wells,” one of the guards called out. 

“Yes sir boss, yes sir,” she called back, picking up her chosen instrument of destruction. This long grass wouldn’t cut itself.

She hissed as sweat fell into one of the cuts on her cheek. Challenging the badest of the bunch in this chain gain might not have been the best idea, but it did earn her a bit of respect. At least they now left her alone.

“You doin okay?”  

“As well as can be expected,” she glanced over at Bering, the woman who had quite handily kicked her ass.

“I like you,” she flashed a crooked grin. “We’re gonna be friends.”

“Are we now?” HG quirked an eyebrow, trying not to flinch in pain.

“Oh yeah.”

HG smirked.  “Tell me Bering do you play cards?”

“I might.”

“How about a friendly game of poker?  Once I’ve fully recovered.”

“Deal.”

One of the girls began to sing. HG recognized the old spiritual from her days in Chicago, and though her voice wasn’t gifted like the young red head, she could handle the call just fine.

“Lunch time,” the guard called out as the song ended.

She found herself grinning in spite of her circumstances. The work was hard but two years on this chain gang would be nothing if she could keep her wits about her.


	48. Teach  me to meet my desires with some grace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strong and you've been, bold as you behave, you will always obey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After much debate I've decided to post this almost entirely vodka meets Interpol fueled sort of porn-ish post. Remember, I never do the porn, so I'm not quite sure where this came from.

She liked control. No she craved control.  She supposed it was a carryover from a disappointing childhood complete with an overbearing father that never allowed her the freedom she wanted.  Always jumping through Warren Bering’s invisible hoops in the hopes of….she didn’t even know.

It didn’t matter now.  None of the childhood trauma that she’d endured.  Yes, things were better after Poe’s pen and Tracy had taken the baby pressure off but there were more important things in her life. More important issues (like saving the world, like saving herself) that came first. Colorado Springs was a distant suburban memory.

And these thoughts certainly didn’t pertain to the situation at hand.

She looked over at her lover. A lover that had come and gone, leaving devastation in her wake. A lover out of time, battered and bruised by the Warehouse. One that she’d never forgotten, one who she’d love for the rest of her life. One that after a few years of soul searching had found her way home.

And for a time she thought it might take the rest of her life before she’d feel that touch again. To wilt under those skilled lips on her body.  In the interim she’d tried others, even spent a weak moment with her work partner in an attempt to feel something akin to the rush only a time traveler could bring. Again and again she was reminded that no one could replace Helena Wells.  Myka was glad that there was no longer any need for a substitution.

“Are the cuffs too tight darling?”

“Not at all,” wrists flexed, testing the bonds that held her to the bed.

She breathed deeply in an attempt to calm the rush of blood in her veins.  “Are you almost ready?”

“Almost.”

A gentle touch caressed her back. “Are you?”

“God yes,” she moaned into the bed.  “So ready for you.”

Twisting her head, she caught the hit of a smirk on Helena’s face as her partner, no, her wife, adjusted the straps on her hips.  The dark colored cock bouncing slightly.

Swallowing hard, she thanked whatever deity that would listen for another chance with Helena. The woman who’d taught her to meet her desires with some grace.  Of her desire to let go of control for this moment.

She didn’t suppress a gasp or the long moan that followed as Helena skillfully entered her.  She groaned out as delicate fingers clutched at her hips, pulling her prone form snugly against her lover’s hips.

It was all she never knew she wanted. 


	49. I can’t remember how this got started but I can tell you exactly how it will end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you get the thing you've always wanted.

Eight years ago you stood on a mountain of crap desperate to go home.

Seven years ago you were chasing your childhood hero though London.

Six years ago you pointed a gun to your head held by your love.  By the person who knew you better than anyone else begging for your own death.  And it broke you.

Five years ago you watched that same person die a fiery death in order to save you.  And when you learned of that sacrifice, it shattered the taped together pieces of you into dust.

Four years ago you didn’t have time to gather the dust as global collapse was standing on your doorstep. When you later had time things had changed and you nearly broke again when you left a small Midwestern town.

But that was the last time. (You’d told yourself that so many times that eventually you believed it. Mostly).

Three years ago you finally got what you always wanted.  You were healed, your love was back. Your family was together. Different than before but better with your love returned to you.  You no longer worked alongside each other like before (which was fine, a little space in a relationship was a good thing), but she was always there.

And you were together. It was all you’d ever wanted.

For a glorious time (you now know) your life was perfect.

Two years ago you noticed things.  Small things at first, more time spent at work, less at home.   More time spent in quiet, less in conversation.  More and more early nights for one or both of you.  Waking up alone. Coming home to an empty house.

One year ago you had both fallen into the pattern.  You spent more hours at work, taking on more projects. More time on missions, in meetings.  More dinners in the company of others, less in each others.

Today you sit on opposite ends of the couch, both in tears. Here was the thing, the thing that you’d always wanted, shattering in front of your eyes.  You wish it had been an affair, a money issue, anything but the fact that you just weren't compatible.  That you just weren't in love anymore.

And perhaps eight years from now you will believe all that you've sacrificed for each other was worth it, but now all you taste is ash in your mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Vodka Made Me Do It series is about to hit 50 chapters! In honor of the big 5-0 and as a thanks for the over 5K in views and 80+ kudos (holy crap) I’ll open the floor to an update to any one of the non completed ideas in this collection of random for a part two (or three). So Roadie’s 30s AU or the Omega Man AU aren’t on the table, but everything else is! Les Mis AU, any of the dystopian AUs, Buffy crossover, Lost Girl crossover, Evil HG Warehouse AU, AHS crossover, Fright Night AU, the fluff, the angst, the domestic stuff, heck even the porny stuff-anything! Cast your vote in the comments section for Vodka or at MFAngeleeta on Tumblr or Twitter. The chapter with the most votes gets a sequel. I’ll give this about a week to tally things up and write the winner. 
> 
> Thanks again for all of the support and feedback!


	50. Underneath that pretty face is something complicated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I come with a side of trouble but I know that's why you're staying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 50 is here and the clear winner is an update to the Fright Night AU found as part of chapter 37's collection of Tumblr prompts. Of course I can't stick with that movie's cannon so here's a wild AU set sort of in that universe with a shout out to another. 
> 
> We might have another series upon us kids. Thank you everyone for all of the views, feedback, flames and love. I write as a stress reliever and to know that others really enjoy my crazy times is incredible.

They had been enjoying a late night visit to Notre Dame on one of their shared weekends off, deep in a discussion of Gothic design.  Myka still favored the world renowned cathedral but Helena was making a strong case for Sainte Chappelle.  After a few months spent as the professor’s teaching assistant it came as no surprise the enigmatic woman had a man on the inside who gave them a tour.

“So how long have you known Whistler?” Myka asked as she looped her arm into her companions.

“We traveled together ages ago,” Helena explained. “We were searching for the same thing.”

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Not at that time,” she glanced up at her friend.

Before Myka could reply three large forms stepped out from the shadows blocking their bath.

“Hello there,” a gravely male voice spoke in broken English. “Nice night for a walk.”

“It is,” Helena tensed. “And if you would be ever so helpful and move so we could continue it.”

Myka let her arm fall from Helena’s grasp. She hoped that this encounter would end peacefully.

“Are you sure we couldn’t join you?” the leader asked as his partners moved to surround the women. “You two could use some company.”

“We are doing just fine,” Myka’s replied quickly. “So if you’ll excuse us.”

“Do you think you're too good to walk with us?” 

“I highly doubt you'd have anything to add to our conversation,” Helena spoke with disdain.

“Who said we wanted to talk?”

 

When the dust had settled, three bodies flew into the Seine. Myka and Helena both covered in blood turned to look at each other in surprise. Helena was breathing heavily, desperately trying to reign in the vampire.  She had gone by many names during her over 400 years of life and enjoyed many a romantic dalliance, but from the moment she met Myka Bering she knew she’d found her one.

She’d existed long enough to know that ripping a man in half could end any relationship before it started.

Myka had held a secret suspicion that Helena was not human, given her odd hours and cool touch.  She was well versed in all lesser creatures, including vampires.  Helena Wells must be a new alias since nothing had come up during her search of the Archives. This was exactly the sort of complication she had caused her so much pain over the past year and had driven her into this seemingly innocent study abroad program.

But she couldn’t deny the attraction she’d felt from day one for the professor.  As a level six magic user, she knew crushing a man with her mind could be a big turn off to a potential suitor.

“You’re a vampire.”   “You’re a sorcerer” they spoke at the same time.

“How can you survive being in a church?” Myka asked shocked.

“I thought your level of skill had left the world,” Helena wiped blood from her forehead.

Sirens wailed in the distance. 

“We should go,” Helena moved toward her friend.

“Agreed,” Myka fell in next to Helena as they moved into the shadows. 

“It seems we have much to discuss Professor Wells.”

“Indeed.”


	51. I’ll explain everything to the geeks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A shot rings out in the bleak semi darkness of what was once Mexico City.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big cannon divergence from the ending of season 2. I actually wrote this last week but wanted to wait until now post. I'd say it's pretty high up there on the angst scale.

The gun wavered. From the bitter cold or from emotion you didn’t know and frankly didn’t care. How she’d survived this long remained a mystery.

You’d lost track of the time-was it years or perhaps decades-since you’d seen the once young woman. There was no color left in the world so you were shocked to see the reddish brown strand that had escaped the form fitting cap.

Part of you was surprised you could still discern color at all.

“You’ve been a difficult one to find.” A voice hardened by time spoke from beneath the frayed scarf.

“Why even bother?

It had been quite some time since you’d deemed it necessary to speak and your voice was rough from disuse.

“Because,” the girl, no woman stepped forward, snow and ice swirling around her. “I owe you. I owe it to Myka.”

The words burn as you speak them. “And what do you know of Myka? Of her final moments? Of her sacrifice?”

“She tried to stop you. “ A pause, “she loved you.”

“Yes,” you agree, feeling the guilt of bad timing and sweaty palms on your mistake. Because you know, you now finally admit years into the epoch long ice age you’ve created that she did love you. And that your sweaty palms and a gun with the safety off had helped to create this mess. You should have known she would attempt to stop your plan, to pull you from the madness as she nearly had before those boys found Warehouse 2.

She was a light that had cracked the murky depths of the abyss you dwelled in then. Because if Myka hadn’t crumpled to the ground then you would have never struck that third blow and the world would be as it once was.

Not this frozen hell that has become your prison.

Those first hours are a distant memory and crystal clear in your mind. You did manage to save Arthur which is why Claudia stands before you now.  Older. Colder. With death as her travel companion.

“Well,” you say looking your killer in the eye. “Get on with it then.”

The gun continued to waver, and for a moment you think that Claudia might not be able to go through with her revenge.

A shot rings out in the bleak semi darkness of what was once Mexico City. 


	52. Because once you enter my house it then becomes our house

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A cancellation leads to opportunity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So so many of these dance related drabbles on my laptop, you just don't know. This 80s house based one managed to make it out of the nether realms.

She wasn’t one to fawn over the DJs at these warehouse shows no matter the skill they displayed. The arrogance that came with the talent was too much to tolerate.  She could count on one hand the number of times she’s approached the makeshift booth to make a request or praise someone on the excellent show.

“She sure is something,” Steve said as they caught their breath and grabbed a drink.

“Agreed,” Helena spent a moment retying her long hair behind her.  “When Frankie canceled last minute, I wondered if this would be worth the drive.”

“So?”  Steve arched a questioning brow.

“Definitely,” Helena watched as the slim woman pulled another record from her crate in preparation for the next mix.

She and Steve had driven in from Azel to Dallas for this underground show.  Because as much as they wanted to get into the Starck Club, they knew it wouldn’t happen and these underground shows fueled their desire to escape the mundane small town existence they shared.  Their friend Claudia had slipped them in as part of her guest list.  And if with the headliner canceling due to bad weather, they’d managed enjoyed themselves quite a bit.

But the sun was about to come up which signaled the end of the festivities. It was a testament to the skills of DJ Pretty Angst that the floor remained full. By this time most people would have headed home and to bed. Helena knew she and Steve would hit up Waffle House on the way back to their shared dingy two bedroom apartment and sleep the night off.

Helena recognized the beat and quickly pulled Steve back onto the floor. This was their anthem and she would end the night dancing to Mr. Fingers.

 

“I’m sure you hear this all the time, but your set was amazing.”

Surprised green eyes looked up from the record crate. “Wow. Thanks.”

Helena felt something stir within her when the crooked smile turned into a full grin.

“Would you care to join us for breakfast?” she motioned to Steve who stood behind her and waved.

“Okay.” The DJ stood up and held out her hand. “I’m Myka.”

“Helena.”


	53. Stay the night with the sinners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've always battled sleep.

You don’t sleep. You’ve never slept, not really.

As a child you remember escaping your room late at night after your parents or your nanny put you to bed, slipping out onto the ledge of your modest home and up onto the roof.  You’d gaze at the stars and make out the constellations that Charles had taught you over the summer.  Imagining what it would be like to travel to those distant points of lights.

As a young woman with a potential suitor on your arm, your nightly outings were plenty. A dinner, followed by a dance, followed by a party that only degenerates such as yourself would ever consider attending. But the crowd you surrounded yourself with never judged you for your predilections or desires.  There were many great thinkers to be found in the opium dens and brothels of London.  It was where you first met a man of the Warehouse.

In some ways you were prepared for Christina’s early years by your insomnia. Able to respond quickly when the baby cried out in the night; able to stay awake in order to sooth your colicky child. Charles only questioned you once on the true origins of your beloved daughter and in that late night discussion over brandy you confessed what created the greatest invention of your career.  He looked at you differently from that moment on buy you paid no mind.  Christina was your entire world.

Wolly had been the perfect partner in so many ways. Steadfast and true, knowing when to push and when to recede. He too, shared your nightly prowls, coming to you in the Warehouse workshop at the oddest hours. Many times just to read in the beat up chair someone had dragged from Chataranga’s office while you worked. Keeping a watchful eye on you for years after Christina’s death.

In hindsight you should have been well prepared for the Bronze given your lifelong ability to exist on a scant hours of sleep.  There were times during your encasement that you felt almost as if you were moving through the streets of London late at night. Other times you’d lose yourself in the darkness, Christina’s cries calling to you in the distance.  The twilight world of your mind became fractured by the in between.

During your tenure at the new Warehouse only Claudia shared your inability to sleep. The young genius kept awake by her late night tinkering or school work.  You mostly divided your post Myka evenings between the library or your room and would hear her moving about. She would sometimes join you for late night discussions on twenty first century techknowledgey.  She was you reborn without the darkness and her future would be a glorious one, of that you were quite certain.

And now you sit at your favorite window in your old home which looks upon a very different London. The Astrolabe like a yoke around your neck as you await word of your return, feeling tired for the first time in over a century.  You are ready to rest, to curl into the arms of the woman who has won your heart and to lay your burdens down. But the Warehouse is as demanding in this century as it was in yours as you find yourself on a never ending mission.

You don’t sleep. You never really have.  But you’ve never wanted to rest more than tonight.


	54. I fought for you the hardest, it made me the strongest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I wonder,” Helena began voice so low that he almost missed it. “I wonder what Christina would think of me. Of us. If she would ever understand, ever forgive my not being there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm going to call the collection of the Wells and Wolcott drabbles a loose series. They all take place in the same Warehouse 12 universe but aren't in sequential order. I'm also choosing to go with the 3..2...1 dates for the life of Christina Wells. This one is a sad one, even to me. 
> 
> The other chapters set in this universe are 30, 40 and 53.

“Where is your partner Agent Wolcott? Were we not clear on the time or location for this annual assessment?”

“You were sir,” William replied, sharing a look with Caretaker McGivens.

“As I explained Mr. Nasser,” the Caretaker spoke. “Today would be the day Agent Wells is not available.  Agent Wolcott is more than capable of handling this review himself.”

“Very well,” Nasser replied with a scowl.  “But I will be back in two months as a follow up.”

Wolcott grimaced and began this report.

 

The days were becoming longer and warmer William realized after walking the several blocks to visit his partner. He had relieved himself of this cape, draping it over his arm and loosened his collar a bit.  The trip had been spent lost in thought on how the review had gone with the Regents. Worried that HG hadn’t been there to explain the reason behind some of her more daring adventures. They always procured their curiosity but their methods were starting to draw concern their direction.

To be more specific, towards HG’s direction.

Time was not the balm he and others had hoped it to be.  Time was turning out to be the enemy as HG became more obsessed with the concept.  He still joined the inventor in her workshop late at night, reviewing the day’s Times or with his Yeats or Shaw.  In the past they had discussed their cases or gossiped about their coworkers. Every now and then were reading the same writer and enjoyed spirited debates over a book’s merits.  As of late HG was always working. Always sketching; always hiding behind goggles and a soldering iron.  

He couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen the woman, his dear friend, behind the warehouse agent. 

McShane had voiced his concerns over pints at the Old Bell.

McGivens had inquired in his typical non direct Caretaker fashion.

He had approached Chataranga who answered his questions with another before disappearing into the recesses of the Warehouse in search of an artifact.

 

The Agent sat down on a small bench that overlooked the park half way between the Warehouse and the Wells home.  It had been Christina’s favorite and he’d often found mother and daughter there enjoying the bright summer days.  With her daughter’s body buried across the Channel, this had become Helena’s place to reflect in May.

“How did it go?”

“As expected,” Wolcott draped his cape over the side of the bench.  “Nasser is still an ass. Kosan his lackey. The others were fine.” He sighed. “They’ll be back midsummer with more questions.”

He chuckled. “I heard McGivens giving them an earful as I was leaving, making sure they did not chose July as the time for a return visit.”

“He is a thoughtful man.” Helena looked over at him, “for a Caretaker.”

“Yes,” he grinned.

They sat in a comfortable silence for some time.

 

“I wonder,” Helena began voice so low that he almost missed it. “I wonder what Christina would think of me.  Of us. If she would ever understand, ever forgive my not being there.”

William thought for a moment. “You were her hero Helena, she would have understood.”

When no reply came, he continued. “I can see it now, a teenage version of you,” he paused, “with long hair tied in a messy bun, dress shirt smudged with some unknown substance, pants dirty, half way submerged under some monstrosity that you two had created together.”

He pulled the slim, shaking body back into his shoulder, ignoring how Helena’s tears felt on his jacket as he placed his arm gently across her frame. 

“In fact,” he swallowed hard, “Good thing McShane and I are used to seeing women in trousers. I suspect your style will become common place in the new century. Christina at the forefront, side by side with you and Charles at your Suffragette Marches, speaking as the voice of the modern generation. ”

 As the sun set and he continued to share the adventures of a young Christina Wells, Helena was right there with him.


	55. Now I’m older turning white, watching days turn into nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been 22 years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Season 3 cannon divergence where Steve was saved but others didn't make it.

Fourteen would never be thirteen. There was a certain charm to the steam punk style that the turn of the century building always held. Even when it was trying to kill them at various times, she still loved it and the weight of its history.

Fourteen was a marvel of modern technology with fully integrated systems that were easily upgraded or replaced as time passed.  Much of the inventory system had become automated, which had drastically cut down the time spent walking the isles making sure things were in place.

It helped that there were a lot less artifacts to manage. Even after 22 years there was only a fraction of what the old building had held.

With a crew of six plus the Caretaker she rarely had to go out on retrievals anymore. Pete had retired ten years ago after destroying his knee on a football related mission.  Myka had become the new Artie monitoring the systems and placing artifacts on the shelves with Steve.

The newer Agents were all out tracking artifacts which left her with Steve at the Warehouse. He had offered to cover for her (as he did every year) but she refused (as she did every year). Things might have been easier if they hadn’t built the new Warehouse on the ashes of the old, but time and economics had made it a necessity.

Myka knew they both be needed since the new Warehouse always managed to act up on this date. As if Myka needed a reminder of what had happened 22 years ago. Even if Steve hadn’t technically been alive at the time, he still felt uneasy during this time of year.

“I’m going to go check the aisles,” Myka pushed back from the desk.

“Do you need me to…”

“No,” she smiled sadly. “I’ll be fine.”

Claudia had told her that the layout of Warehouse 14 was completely different that 13  but she always could feel the spots that held significance in her time there.  She passed by an empty row, shuddering at the thought of Alice’s mirror and those hours spent trapped in the looking glass.  She paused, resting her hand on a shelf, thinking about the replica of the Bed and Breakfast that had trapped them during her first year.   She pushed down the dangerous emotions that welled up as she strolled Valda 872 where the Bronze sector once stood.

Myka always ended her walk on this day in what was still called the HG Wells section.  Not all of Helena’s inventions had been stored in the warehouse when it exploded and over the years they continued to make themselves known. Luckily the current lineup of Agents understood just exactly who HG Wells was, sparing Myka and Claudia a brief and painful explanation each time a ping rang for one of those particular curiosities.

The irony wasn’t lost that this was also the spot where she’d last seen the woman who had saved them by lowering the barrier. A smile on her face as she signed her own fiery death certificate.

Myka knew what could happen when strong emotions were felt around the artifacts but on this day she didn’t care.  Every year it got just a little bit harder to remember  the smell of Helena’s hair, or the exact gleam in her eyes when she was being mischievous, or the sound of her laughter at one of Pete’s silly jokes.

Despite her eidetic memory she struggled to remember just what Helena’s skin felt like under her lips, how her chest would rise in the moonlight, shaking and heaving in pleasure thanks to Myka’s touch.  The tone of her voice in the early mornings as they cuddled before the day began.

She sank to the cold floor of Warehouse 14 in the spot where she’d last seen her love and let the tears flow, grasping at memories as they slowly faded away. 


	56. Lights will guide you home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I promise you I will learn from my mistakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of angst lately so here's a big of romantic fluffy to balance it out. Let me know what you think.

Claudia gasped as the blinding light returned to normal levels. She looked over at Steve who stood slowly and gave her a thumbs up.  Nodding she moved herself to the other part of the factory to check on the rest of the team.

Even at times like this, when the world had been on the brink of destruction yet again, pulling a Mrs. Fredrick would never get old.  Smirking, the Caretaker ran around the corner calling out Pete and Myka’s names.  Ground zero had been the foreman’s office.  Somehow he’d stumbled upon a Chernobyl artifact that would rival any of the big dogs of destruction in the Warehouse.

So of course the first A team had run in Tesla’s blazing hoping to cut a father-fueled by the grief of his young son’s death-off at the pass.

“OMG,” Claudia gasped.  The Regents had told her this was a Defcon One level threat and so they were pulling in a couple of extra resources to help with the case. 

“Well,” HG stood slowly holding the static bag in front of her as she stepped over the unconscious form of the man they’d come to stop. “That went smoothly.”

Pete’s call for help from under a bookshelf pulled the Caretaker’s attention from the center of the room.

“You okay?” she asked, helping him up.

“Did Myka get it?” he brushed himself off.

“Um…”

 

“What are you doing here?”

“The Regents called me out of retirement to assist.”

“Retirement?”

“From the Warehouse,” HG brushed her hair back. “After the Astrolabe I had little desire to go back. At least in the same capacity as I once was.”

Myka frowned and crossed her arms.

“I know you’re wondering where I’ve been the past six months,” HG took a tentative step towards Myka. “And why I haven’t contacted you.”

“You could say that.”

“Recovery, for lack of a better word,” she sighed. “Mrs. Fredrick is a very persuasive woman and it was at her instance I get myself sorted before I decided on what to do next.”

“Oh.”

 

Claudia Donovan had never been shy about cheerleading for any and all romances in her vicinity. She had teased Pete like a proud sibling when he and Kelly had been a couple and had given Artie all of her support throughout his relationship with Vanessa.

But her secret wish, the one only Steve knew about, was happening before her.

 

“So what have you decided?”

“I’ve found work actually,” Helena smiled. “Work I enjoy in a little town in the American Midwest. I started there about a week ago and it’s been challenging and freeing all at once.”

“That’s good,” Myka smiled but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I’ve purchased a little house as well. I plan to move in as soon as possible. It’s fine for one,” she pauses, “but perfect for two.”

 

Claudia squeezed Pete’s forearm hard trying not to squeal.  Steve stumbled into the room, the tension keeping him silent.

 

“Really?” Myka swallowed hard.

“Yes,” Helena took another step closer. “It’s just down the road from the local Bed and Breakfast.”

Myka makes the connection, thinking of the house that’s been for sale forever a block down the street from Leena’s.  She remembers seeing a sold sign posted in the yard on their way to the airport two days ago.

 

Claudia can’t contain herself anymore raising her arms in victory. 

Pete and Steve share a grin. 

“You owe me $20,” Pete whispered.

“Gladly,” Steve replied.

 

“So,” Helena pulls back from the kiss with a grin.

“Yes,” Myka replied, taking her hand and turning to face the group.

 

Claudia and Steve trailed behind the group as they exited the factory.

“I’d give it a 10 out of 10.” Claudia beamed.

Steve chuckled.  “Me too.”


	57. We do what we do in Vegas, we gamble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's always someone younger and hungrier coming down the stairs after you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow the Tumblr prompt of "well this is awkward" generated another absolutely cracktasic fic that has several references to one of my favorite bad movies of all time, Showgirls.

Helena looked up from the table where she’d just left another set of overpriced drinks to the stage where the show was about to start.

They’d been scoping out Bally’s for about a week on the trail of Nomi Malone’s Cowboy hat. The last star of Goddess at the now defunct Stardust Hotel had become a bit of an urban legend in Vegas. But like all fables it was based in a bit of truth.

A girl with no past, she had risen to stardom in the mid 90s, coming from nowhere to take over the lead at the famous show when Cristal Connor blew out her knee. Some said she simply retired, others say Nomi pushed her down the stairs one night during a show.

Either way the kid had become a sensation and the Cowboy hat had become infused with several disturbing energies.  Currently someone at Jubilee was in possession of the artifact and had used it to cause several accidents. Three dancers and a lighting tech had been hurt in the past three months.

“Anything,” the Victorian asked into the hidden mic.

“Nothing here,” Pete, playing the role of hotel security was circling the perimeter of the hall.

“I’ve been through about half of the dressing area,” Steve added from backstage. He was undercover as part of the wardrobe crew.  “So far nothing.”

“Backstage is clear as well,” Claudia replied from her post near the soundboard as the third operator in charge. 

“Let’s hope we get something soon,” Helena nodded at the bartender who filled her tray with another set of drinks.

“Has anyone seen Myka?” Pete asked.  She had been paired with him as part of hotel security but had gone to check backstage before the show.

“She’s not with you?” Claudia asked, wincing slightly from the noise of the onstage explosion.

“Nope.”

“I saw her in the dressing area about 20 minutes ago,” Steve offered.

“Bollocks,” Helena cursed.

A stern look from the bartender sent HG to the next table with drinks.

 

“Oh dear Lord,” HG rolled her eyes, “I’ve found Myka.”

“Hello Darlin’”, Myka grinned broadly from the lap of the Japanese business man she was currently sitting on.  The Cowboy hat securely on her head.

“Gentlemen,” HG quickly empted her tray of drinks. “Myka, if I might have a word.”

“For you, I can spare two.”

She rose slowly and HG swallowed hard.  Her partner had always been attractive but had never worn her sexuality on her sleeve. Unless under the influence of an artifact apparently.

“I see you found the hat,” Helena said casually as she led the other woman away from the crowd.

“This old thing,” Myka smirked.  “What do you think?”

“I think,” HG turned, only to be pressed into the wall.  They were in a shadowed area far from the stage.

“I think,” she began again, “that you should give it to me.”

“Really?” 

HG suppressed a groan as Myka’s hips cantered into her own.

“Yes.”

“I think you’d to take something else.”

Helena fell into the kiss with little thought.  She was in the thrall of this Myka and was having a hard time remembering they were barely hidden in a crowded room while searching for an artifact.

It wasn’t until a well timed shower of sparks illuminated their location that Helena remembered they weren’t alone.

“Well,” Claudia coughed. “Hands in interesting places.”

Pete had a glazed over look similar to the one he’d get over a plate of fresh baked Oatmeal Scotchies.

“Well,” Steve was the only one who blushed, “this is awkward.”


	58. I can tell you’ve earned a bit of deconstruction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If it hurts to breathe open a window

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like we have another bit of a mini-series on our hands. This is a follow up to the 80s AU set sort of in the world of The Wolf of Wall Street from chapter 44.Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think.

The sun rose slowly illuminating the beach front home.  Amber rays crawled across the hardwood floor of the bedroom that faced the expanse of the Pacific in all of its turbulent glory, revealing clothing scattered haphazardly across the bedroom.

Despite the late (or perhaps early) morning the bed’s occupants had shared, both stirred when the sun finally hit their sleeping positions. Curled around each other, it was difficult to tell where one woman started and the other ended.

As if this hadn’t been a one night stand.

But it had because the bi-coastal life they led made it so. Even If this was a one night stand that had gone on for almost a year.

Helena slowly opened her eyes, kissing the bare shoulder her head rested on. She reached across her partner to check the time on the clock sitting atop a nightstand.

“What time does your flight leave?”

“Not until tonight,” she leaned back and kissed the woman good morning. 

“Mmm,” Myka grinned as she slid her hands down the other woman’s back. “Good.”

 

The sun was high in the sky as the pair zoomed into the city.  Helena sighed, watching the coastline go by as Myka drove. 

“What are we doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“This,” Helena glanced over at the driver.

“I thought we were having fun. Are you not anymore?”

Helena was definitely having fun, a little too much actually. Word on Wall Street was that Stratton Oakmont was being investigated by the SEC and the FBI.  She had worked for Jordan for years and knew that he was like her, ready to push the limits of propriety until they broke.  Her friend in the Bureau had let her know that she needed to make contingency plans.

_“Just in case,” he’d told her over lunch last week._

_“Does Denham have something?”_

_“Not quite yet,” Pete signaled for a refill. “But I’ve got a vibe.”_

“Oh God,” Myka scoffed. “I hope you’re not falling for me. Because I told you after that first night that I’m not that type of girl.”

“I didn’t say that,” Helena turned fully to look at the other woman. 

“But you want to know what this,” Myka waved her hand from Helena to herself, “is. It’s you flying into town, calling me up and us partying for a few days.  We have fun. We have great sex.  You show me your gratitude and head back to New York.”

“What if I moved to LA?”

Myka’s eyebrows shot up. Before she could reply she slowed the car and pulled to the side of the road.

“Come again?”

“What if I moved out here?” Helena asked, not quite sure where this was coming from.

“We’ve got a good thing here HG,” Myka turned in her seat. “No commitments. No obligations. Why would you want to mess it up by coming out here?”

“I don’t,” Helena looked out at the ocean again. “But things are changing in New York.  I think it’s time for me to retire from Wall Street.”

“And do what?”

“Something else.”


	59. Aenema

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “6:39 begins now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to AU town. Not sure if this will be a series or a one shot but it came to me earlier today. Please let me know what you think.

“6:39 begins now.”

The onlookers watched as the simulation room came to life, turning slate walls into a jagged and dangerous landscape filled with debris from the past. Ancient buildings lean against each other like Saps after a night of too much Julo. The ground is cracked and filled with wreckage from multiple worlds. The smell of death hangs in the air as the blood red sky begins to evaporate into space. The world is gasping its final breath.

 This is the final test to see if the lone solider inside is the Hero reborn.

The Skitters come out first, pouring out from cracks in the ground and forming into fluid masses of destruction.  It is the easiest of the trials that the Reborn must face.

The observation room is packed as they watch the Reborn easily evade the Skitters.

 

“She is good,” the Director glances at her assistant. “Better that the reports led me to believe.”

“It’s more than just genetics,” the Handler nods watching the Reborn dodge another obstacle. He has trained her well to conserve what she can for when the Big Boss shows its head. “She has the skills. The instincts you can’t train.”

“She lacks discipline,” the Weapons Master crosses his arms.  “She is careless in her actions. Any good solider would…”

“We are in need of more than good soldiers,” the Handler cuts him off, a deep frown on his face. “Was the Hero known for her ‘discipline’ or for her improvisational skills?”

“This,” the Master gestures towards the screen, “is another pale copy. There are others that have a genetic match. She will fail.”

“Enough,” the Director’s roar ends further argument.  “It is time.”

 

The Reborn has made it to this point many times in the test. The Skitters are easy to avoid as are the Led Foots and Battle Blasters. She had distracted the enemy enough so that the ships carrying the last of her people are able to escape into space.  But there is one more group she must save to pass.

All of her military training tells her that this is unnecessary. The civilians need to be rescued and they have been.  All soldiers know that they must make sacrifices to the Empire, including giving your life to the Great Hereafter.  To save a unit of troops is not part of the manual.

But this test is based on the life of the Hero. And the Hero, her true ancestor, would never allow her friends to die on this world.

So the Reborn sneaks her way past more Led Foots and Skitters, leaps over wreckage to avoid a clan of Deathkeepers and eliminates the guards around the unit.

It is the first time she hears the words.

“You came,” surprise fills his bright blue eyes.

“Of course,” she says the famous words as if they were her own. “You still owe me 20 creds.”

He rolls his eyes, grinning like a madman as they make their way back to the hidden ship.

The air is getting thin. The red sky is beginning to turn black as the last of the atmosphere is sucked into space.

“Not far now,” she looks over at the man, the Hero’s best friend since childhood.

“Of course you’d make us take the scenic route.”

 

“She’s just made it further than any other candidate,” the Engineer shouts from the control room, her red hair blocking the grin on her face.  She has always been a fan of this particular Reborn.

“How much time left?” the Handler asks.

“Minute forty five.”

“Come on kid,” the cup in this hand groans as he squeezes it “you can do it.”

 

The roar comes just as it should. The last of them is about to board the small ship when the Dreadnaught comes racing towards them.  The ship still needs to prep and there is only one way left to freedom.

“No,” the blue eyed man calls and the Hero Reborn leaps from the ship just as the door closes.

The Hero Reborn steps in front of the small mountain of a beast with more arms and eyes than any of the Gods should have ever created. But the enemy has proven throughout the centuries that they only worship destruction.

 

 

The cup bursts under the pressure of the Handler’s hand.

“By the Gods,” the Engineer exclaims, slapping the back of her brother in the chair next to her. They created the simulation room and the test decades ago and no one has been able to beat it.

Save one.

“You owe me so many credits,” the Handler smirks at the frowning Weapons Master.  “I told you she could do it.”

The enigmatic Director looks over at her assistant who raises a bushy eyebrow in question.

“Begin phase two.”

 

She isn’t quite ready to face the onlookers just yet so she sits on the locker room bench after a long shower. She can’t quite believe that she finally beat the test. And with the Director watching! There was no shame in being a genetic match to the Hero and not beating the IX Simulation.  In nearly 147 years no one had ever come close.

Until now.

She couldn’t help but grin when she opened her Com,her wife’s anxious face filled the screen.

“I passed Myka,” dark hair fell into her face. “By the Gods I passed!”


	60. Lateralus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Black then white are all I see in my infancy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We definately have another series on our hands. No title as of yet and I'll be keeping this under the Vodka umbrella. 
> 
> Side note: I'm working on Degenerate as well so there should be an update in the next few days. 
> 
> And as always please let me know what you think.

“Did you hear,” Sally hurried over, eyes wide. “She passed!”

“Who passed what?” Myka didn’t glance up from her terminal. The Colonel needed this report yesterday when his assistant had dropped the file on her desk this morning.

“That Reborn! Wells something,” the other woman leaned in. “There’s even talk of putting the Unit together again.”

“Really,” Myka looked up from the report. “Who told you that?”

“I have a friend in the Director’s Acquisitions department. He told me that they’re pulling personal history data from across the Complex and sending it up to the Director herself.”

“Phase two,” Myka whispered.

“Phase what?”

“Never mind,” Myka covered quickly. “Something in the report for the Colonel. Which I need to get done ASAP.

 

 

“The Complex is a buzz with your feat Wells,” the Weapons Master wore his usual frown as they prepared for today’s lesson.

“Yes sir.”

“What do you think of about that?”

She looked up from the sword she was cleaning. “It gives the people hope,” she met his eyes, not shying away from the hate that filled them. “It’s all that some of them have.”

“It’s a cruel joke,” he snarled, picking up his long ranged rifle and strapping it to his back.  “When their hope is pinned on a fuck up like you.”

“Yes sir.”

 

“Was the Hero such a polarizing figure?” Josh asked his sister as they ran the day’s training simulation. The Weapons Master had been especially cruel in his words and more vicious in his attacks since Wells had passed IX a couple of days ago.

“I wasn’t there.”

Josh rolled his eyes.  “You know what I mean.  You’ve been moony for the Hero since we were kids.”

“I’m not moony,” Claudia shot him a glare, “Just informed.”

“Well inform me please.”

“The Hero saved our people but there were many who never became fans,” Claudia leaned back and looked at Josh. “The Elites, well they never really accepted one of the Fallen as their own.  And the Complex was the same as it is now.  The victories brought a certain amount of freedom but never adoration.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah.”

“I see why you like Wells so much then,” Josh looked down at the monitor and adjusted one of the settings. It began to rain in the Simulation room. 

Claudia smirked when the Weapons Master slipped on a wet rock and fell on this ass.

 

Night was falling when she finally left the Division’s office.  It was spring on the planet so the evenings still held a bit of chill. She pulled her jacket a bit tighter as she headed down the steps to the street.  She was so lost in thought about phase two she almost walked right past her wife.

“Well you’re feeling bold I see,” Myka grinned at the slim figure sitting on the low marble wall next to the sidewalk.

“I’ve earned a bit of a break I think.”

Myka watched as Wells slowly stood, revealing the day’s injuries.

“By the Gods,” she closed the distance between them. “You should be with a Medic.”

“Already been.  He patched me up and prescribed a few days rest, including a four day pass out of the Facility.”

“Let’s get you home then so I can take care of you.”

 

Myka completed the call to work, letting them know she was taking one of her endless supply of personal days.  She shut the bedroom door and slipped back into bed.

“Hmm,” Wells snuggled into the warm body next to her. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Myka pulled the other woman into her arms, careful not to put too much pressure on her many bruises. “I’m taking time off.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Wells looked up from Myka’s chest. “People already suspect.”

“Let them.”

“Your Father…”

“Is not part of my life.”

“But he is the King.” Wells finished.

“And even he can’t keep us apart.” Myka leaned in and brushed her lips against her love. “I love you Helena.”

“And I you.”

 

 

“Any movement?”

“Nope,” he accepted the fresh cup of stimulant as the other man sat down in the passenger’s seat of his Roadie.  “Did you think there would be?”

“Wells was pretty banged up,” he took a sip. “Thought they might go to a Medic.”

“Maybe,” he glanced up at the apartment. “But it’s been weeks since they last saw each other.  You know they aren’t going to waste what little time they have.”

“True,” he opened the Roadie’s door. “Well I need to get back to my observation post.”

He smirked as his brother and fellow Sneaker jogged across the street to where his Roadie was parked.  The spy business was always a good business, especially in times like these.  He never imaged that he would be assigned such a high profile case by order of the King.

Until his brother showed up one day under orders from the Director.

The only difference between their case files was the placing of the names.

Wells and Bering. Bering and Wells. 

 

“And these are your best recommendations?” the Director looked up from the list of names.

“Yes,” her assistant folded his hand behind him as he stood before her.

“You know the King will not be happy.”

“Is he ever?”

“True,” she stood and headed over to her bookshelf, pulling out a hidden bottle of Scotch. “And what do I tell the King when he asks why the heir to throne has been assigned to the Unit?”

“That she is the most qualified to be in that position.”

“Don’t lie to me Arthur,”  she poured a finger’s worth of the amber liquid into a glass. “You know there are others who test far higher.”

“And with less field time.” He paused while the Director sat down. “For this plan to work it’s going to take more than perfect scores and genetic tests. The Hero’s Unit wasn’t filled with poster children from the Elite classes. It was made up of outsiders, rule breakers, the kind of people the Complex barely tolerated alongside gifted soldiers.  It was the chemistry of the group that set them apart.”

“And you think Bering’s chemistry with the group, and not just with Wells, is what this Unit will need?”

“They’ll need both.”

“Fine,” she sat down behind the desk and opened her Tech Screen.  “I’ll make the call.”

“Thank you Director Fredrick. You’re making the right decision.” With a nod he left the office.

“Specialist Valda,” the Director greeted the head of Acquisitions, “I’m sending you a list of personnel that need to be transferred to the Facility immediately.”

She shut off the screen and leaned back in her chair.  If this gambit didn’t pay off things would not go well for anyone.


	61. Your prison is walking through this world all alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, you're a hard one   
> I know that you got your reasons   
> These things that are pleasin' you   
> Can hurt you somehow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a season 4/5 AU with a shout out to one of my other all time favorites Lost.

_“You better let somebody love you before it’s too late.”_

HG jerked awake, Nate’s parting words echoing in her ears.  She hadn’t seen the man or his charming daughter in nearly two years but that didn’t matter.   The longer she traveled the more true they became.

This morning she found herself in Sydney, Australia working on a case as a favor to Irene. She didn’t hunt for artifacts anymore, not really.  But it was the 10 years anniversary of a famous flight crash and even she knew that things could get out of hand easily at such emotionally charged events.  Helena had been in bronze when the Oceanic flight crashed but all of the survivors would in town today for the memorial dedication.

As would she.

 

Later that day she found herself in an upscale airport bar, ready to escape the throngs of onlookers and dignitaries.  Helena had never been a fan of these events, especially as of late.

Irene had told her the Warehouse (and its agents) were moving. And the “what ifs” had been spinning out of control for days in her mind.

_“Things are changing rapidly,” Irene quirked an eyebrow. “In ways none of us anticipated. I wouldn’t dawdle if you plan be part of their lives in any way.”_

Helena tapped her empty glass. The bartender nodded and went to work on her Whiskey Sour.

“You look more like a Vodka drinker,” the large man noted, appearing out of nowhere next to her.

Years of dealing with Caretakers kept her from flinching.

“I’m trying something new,” she replied. Glancing over she noted a kind face framed in long curly hair.

“I’ll have a vodka tonic,” the man ordered.  “Extra lime.”

“Something new,” he played with a cocktail napkin, “are you sure that’s what you want?”

“I have learned in my many years that thing can never stay the same.  I have grown to accept the cliché that change is the only thing that is constant in one’s life.”

“In your many years?” the younger man looked skeptical.

“I’m older than I look.”

They sipped their drinks in silence for a moment.

“You were at the Dedication today.” 

“I was,” Helena glanced over at the man, noticing his drink was empty. “As were you.”

She waved towards the bartender who began making another round of drinks.

“I don’t “do” these types of things,” he accepted the drink and they toasted each other. “But sometimes you have to for the good of others.” He sighed. “I know people still hurt for those they lost, no matter how many years go by.”

Helena nodded thinking of Christina.

“But you can’t live in the past, or in fear,” his curls swayed slightly as he turned his head. “And as a wise yet insane man one suggested you can run from your destiny.”

“Sounds familiar,” Helena smirked.

“Because it’s true,” he nodded. “China’s not so bad,” he mumbled, sipping his drink.

She turned, not bothering to hide her surprise.

“You better let somebody love you,” he set his drink down and stood. “Before it’s too late.”

 

The Xinjiang Province wasn’t so bad.  Sure it was a bit on the remote side but the small village that was about a day’s travel from the slowly forming Warehouse 14 was sort of like Univille.

At least they could finally say goodbye to the IRS Agent cover.

“The new recruits are about to arrive,” newly ordained Caretaker Claudia’s face filled Myka’s Farnsworth.  “Can you come up to the office and show them around?”

“Be there in a sec,” Myka make a star next to where she’d stopped inventory and headed to the state of the art office. 

Claudia was practically hopping from foot to foot on the landing.

“So,” she beamed. “We’ve got three new agents, a Regent and a consultant in this group.  I’ll take the agents and the Regent on the tour if you can handle the consultant?”

“Um, okay.”  Myka had grown used to the seeming endless parade of new personnel over the last six months.

 

“Welcome,” Claudia announced to the group, “to Warehouse 14.”

The Agents and the Regent  oh and ah’d as expectedly but the consultant, stepping into her third Warehouse only had eyes for the person before her.

As the group moved off behind Claudia Myka stepped forward until she was in front of Helena. They hadn’t seen each other in almost three years. Myka had given up hope of ever hearing from the Victorian again.

“A consultant?”

“Yes,” Helena nodded. “It seems that someone is needed to run this Warehouse’s version of the Bed and Breakfast as well as consult on artifacts.” She smiled. “Among other things.”

“So you’re back?”

“Yes.”

“And your Mandarin?”

“Rusty, but getting better.”

“Good.”

A somewhat awkward silence filled the office.

“Why? After all these years did you decided to come back to the Warehouse?”

“I’m only a consultant,” Helena corrected. “After all that’s happened I can never fully return.”  She shuttered thinking of her time in the Janus Coin.  “But I’ve grown tired of wandering, of riding fences as it were. I’m ready to settle down before it’s too late.”

Myka nodded , smiling brightly.  “Come on,” She offered her arm. “Let me show you the new world of Endless Wonder.”


	62. Come save me from my artifact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Now Agent Patel,” HG offered her hand to the prone man, “are you ready to learn some defensive maneuvers?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another scene set in the Warehouse 12 universe found in Chapters 30, 40, 53 and 54. None of these are in chronological order. I've been filling them under Wells and Wolcott. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!

“In my day,” Mr. Smithson frowned deeply, “this would have never been allowed.  A woman in the Warehouse.”

“What of Agent da Vinci,” McGivins kept his tone neutral. “She was a great asset to Warehouse 9 and the first woman to become head agent in this millennia.”

“She was a rare exception that happened under unique circumstances.”

McGivins rolled his eyes.  Thankful yet again that Smithson was gone.

 “And how is retirement from the Warehouse treating you these days.”

“Well enough.”  The former lead agent of Warehouse 12 observed the training session before him. “The Regents have set me up quite nicely.”

The pair watched as Agents Wolcott and McShane sparred while Agent Wells showed their newest recruit, Mr. Patel, some simple defensive maneuvers.

 

“Madam,” Agent Patel crossed his arms. “I am well trained in the art of physical combat. I do not need your assistance.”

“Is that so?” HG smirked. “Well then this should be an easy contest for you then.”

Both Wolcott and McShane knew that tone well. They ended their sparring moved out of the way.

“20 Quid that HG takes him down in under three minutes,” McShane whispered.

“Make it 40 and under one minute and it’s a deal.”

The men shook hands. Wolcott made sure to catch Helena’s eye and indicated there was a small wager on her success.

“It is improper for a gentleman to strike a lady,” Patel continued.

“Even if the lady is under the influence of a curiosity?”

“I will cross that bridge when I must,” Patel would not be swayed. “And this is not one of those times.”

HG barely caught her eye roll in time.

“Did you not say in your interview that you prided yourself on your preparedness?’

“Well, yes.”

“So then call this a practice session for when you do face that scenario. Because that day will surely come.  Right boys?”

“Definitely,” Wolcott agreed.

“Don’t remind me,” McShane added.

“So let’s pretend I’m a woman under the influence, as it were,” HG assumed a defensive pose. “Come save me from my artifact.”

Patel lunged in an attempt to overpower the smaller woman.  HG was faster and easily side stepped his attack, kneeing him in the stomach as he passed.  Gasping, he turned and attempted to land a punch but she again was faster, taking the man’s hand and using his momentum to spin him to the ground.

Within seconds he was pinned with his face pressed into the mat and his arm about to be broken.  He attempted to flip HG off of his back but a jab of her knee into his kidneys quickly ended his resistance.

“Do you yield?” she asked, pulling his arm further back.

“Yes! Yes! I yield,” Patel shouted.

She quickly moved off the man who remained on the floor breathing heavily.

“Bloody hell,” McShane cursed as grabbed his waistcoat from a hook on the wall.

HG shot Wolcott a wink.

“Now Agent Patel,” HG offered her hand to the prone man, “are you ready to learn some defensive maneuvers?”

 

“And do you still believe that women like Agent Wells have no place at Warehouse 12?” McGivens looked over at his companion.

“I woman like that is dangerous,” Smithson continued to frown. “Mark my words.  She’ll be the ruin of us all.” 


	63. Oh I know it’s not the right time tonight but I won’t move until it stops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m not scared if you run to me, lost like when you were mine. And you can take what you want from me, just offer me your time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is will be my only Season 5 fix it attempt. I'm feeling fluffy, Twin Shadow released a glorious new single and it's my birthday. So here you go. I don't know what I'm doing anymore, so please send that feedback and let me know.

She turned the invitation around in circles, wearing the corners smooth and smearing the embossed script across the front. Claudia had given her a warning that this was in the works and had been for some time now.

The question was could she accept things as they were seemingly destined to be? Or would she try to changes the rules one more time. Her feelings had never waned, but had been eclipsed in her fear and loneliness for some time.  She knew now, nearly a year after the events of Boone that Myka had been right. She had been hiding.  And settling. Settling for a life that wasn’t really her own.

Thanks to her favorite Agent she’d said goodbye to the safe and simple man with an extraordinary daughter. Moving from place to place, sometimes taking odd jobs, other times sampling living and writing.  Irene, and later Claudia, had asked her repeatedly to return to the Warehouse but she was not ready. Might never be ready thanks to all that had happened between herself and the institution.

But this, this invitation demanded an answer. She stopped spinning the envelope and read the word inside. She absorbed the pain that came with the simple phrasing. She had a month to decide what to do.

 

Myka flipped through her planner to the blue post it, reviewing the details of her rehearsal dinner and wedding run through. Everyone had finally arrived in Featherhead and would be ready to go for the afternoon’s practice wedding.

She closed the journal and headed into the church where everyone, well almost everyone, she cared about would be present. Claudia had assured her that Helena received an invitation but the wayward Agent had never responded.  Myka knew that Helena had left Boone some time ago but her texts and emails went unanswered.

Where ever she was, she only hoped her friend was happy.

Steve and Claudia greeted her with smiles and hugs.

“Let’s get you pretend hitched,” Claudia joked.

“Where’s Pete?” she looked around the cathedral for her future husband.

“He’s in back with Artie and his mom,” Steve provided. “I think they’re making sure he behaves himself.”

“Well that’s what this rehearsal is for,” Myka chuckled. “I’m hoping he gets it all out of his system before the real thing.”

 

 

Helena slipped into the church unnoticed, hidden in the shadows of the early evening.   The full wedding party was assembled near the alter as the Pastor went on about love and devotion.  The words were clichéd but the sentiment  was true.

“And this next section I talk about the importance of devotion,” the elderly man officiating the ceremony explained, “I won’t go through it now. So let’s pick up from right before the vow section.”

Myka and Pete nodded.

“And if there is an objection to this Holy union, let them speak now or forever hold their peace.”

“If I might offer a suggestion,” Helena’s voice cut through the stillness of the large room.

Heads swirled around and there was a gasp from both Mrs. Bering and Steve.

“Helena,” Myka rasped.

Pete grimaced.

“I do apologize,” Helena scanned the room, “but I feel I must share my thoughts before the time is past.” Dark eyes refocused on the now blushing bride.

“I am sorry for the timing of my return,” Helena began, stepping forward, “and all I ask is your ear. If you doubt the sincerity of my words then please go forward with your nuptials tomorrow.” She swallowed, trying to piece together the words she came up with on the long flight from Cape Town.

“The long and the short of it is that I love you Myka Bering,” she locked eyes with the other woman who blushed. “I was smitten from the first time I saw you on the ceiling of my home. A fully modern woman that I had only imagined.  And I know that I have betrayed your trust, made you doubt yourself. There are no words that can convey how truly sorry I am. There are only deeds that I hope to demonstrate for the rest of my life how apologetic I am for my actions.”

“It’s okay,” Myka stutters, “I forgive you.”

“Thank you my love,” Helena smiled. “But I shall never forgive myself for my transgressions.  I have spent the better part of this past year finding myself as it were. And I now that the life I led in Wisconsin was not my truth, nor is my truth to be found inside the walls of our Warehouse.  My truth lies with you.”

Claudia squealed, clutching onto Steve’s arm tightly.

“And so I humbly come before you,” Helena stood before her love, “to ask that you reconsider your options in holy matrimony.  That we perhaps can begin our relationship anew, back to the beginning of things.  I know that it’s not the right time tonight but I can’t wait any longer to ask. Will you be mine, Myka Bering, and I yours?”

 

A stillness filled the room while the small crowd assembled held their breath, all eyes on Myka.

“Myka,” Pete whispered, stepping closer. “Please.  Please don’t consider this. Where was she when you needed her most?  Gone.  I have always been there for you.”

“I know,” Myka stared at the ground, feeling out of control. “You were and always have been.” She met her best friend’s eyes. “And I love you for it.”

“So marry me,” Pete pleaded.  “I love you.”

Myka leaded forward and kissed Pete deeply, conveying all of the love and thanks she felt for her partner.

 

 

A light rain fell as Helena and Myka dashed out of the church hand in hand.  Myka had asked for a month off for the wedding and honeymoon. She was planning on using it fully to give the artificer one more chance.  Their timing would never be perfect but this would be their chance and for once she wasn’t going to waste it.


	64. Read all the pamphlets and watch the tapes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if HG had only been brozned for about 50 years and awoke in the 60s?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super duper AU of HG meeting up with a future Bering one night in a crowded NYC club. Has anyone gone here? Please let me know.

“You’re so full of shit right now,” she smirked, sipping the clear drink through a slim straw.

“And what makes you say that,” you reply, slowly stirring your own beverage.

“Well,” she leans in with a familiarity only alcohol can bring. “You look far too young to have met Hemingway.”

“You’d be surprised darling.” There is no need to share your long and sordid history with this woman, despite how compelling she has turned out to be.  “He did only pass away a few years ago.”

“By my calculation, about 15,” she grins again before locking ruby lips around the slim straw.

You now regret name dropping in the hopes of scoring tonight. It’s painfully obvious that your new friend is an above average conquest.

“Fine,” you can’t help but smirk, deciding that the truth is indeed stranger than any fiction you might create in this moment. “I spent the past 50 years in suspended animation as part of a secret organization that collects dangerous objects in order to protect the world.  I was awaked eight years ago to deal with a situation that required my specific attention.”

“Hmm,” green eyes bore into yours. “And let me guess, your real name is Jules Verne?”

You can’t help but laugh, thinking of your rival for many years who has managed to survive as part of his League almost as long as you. “Do I look French?”

She appraises you, allowing her eyes to drink in your form in a way that makes the crowed club warmer.  “I supposed the accent is a giveaway.”

“Thank you.”

“So then,” she pauses to search her memory. “You’re a female HG Wells.  I always wondered if he was actually was a woman.”

You don’t bother to hide a smile. This modern woman understands you.

“And what if I was?” You step closer.  “Would that help move things along?”

“So presumptuous,” she smirks again. “Just because the song says we should Get Down Tonight doesn’t mean we should.”

You take another step closer. “And why not?”

“It’s illegal.”

“Really,” you quirk a brow. “This decade seems so liberated. Why my work partner is at the Christopher Street Pier now looking for an evening companion.  And here you are at one of the most scandalous establishments in the city.  How illegal can it be?”

You watch her run a hand nervously through long blonde hair.  “I’ve never been with a woman.”

She is yours. “I’ve been with many if that helps.”

“I have boyfriend.”

“He never need know.”

You lean back, giving her space to think while the music pulse around you.

“Okay,” she steps forward suddenly, grabbing your shirt desperately as soft lips meet yours.

“I’m Jeannie.”

You smile. “Helena.”


	65. Looking out at the burnt land, looking back at me, these used to be green crops, high on a summer breeze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They said that if I starred, the abyss would stare back at me. So I did and I felt it slowly creep in me. Save for the smoke, that danced when I took a drag; It made me think about the way it all came to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update to the Wells and Wolcott Warehouse 12 universe found in chapters 30, 40, 53, 54 and 62. In this universe I'm going with the 3...2...1 timeline that Christina was alive and part of Helena's world in the earlier years of her time at 12 so the other agents not only knew of her but actually knew her.
> 
> So get ready, angst ahoy.

They’d all stopped by to pay their respects.  McShane with his seemingly smooth words that barely hid his worry. McGivens with assurances that she could come back, or not, when she was ready.  Charles flitted in and out of her vision wearing a tight expression.  It had fallen to him to plan everything and the toll was beginning to show.

Chataranga hadn’t said a word, simply pulling her into a long hug that almost broke her.  She had sworn that no more tears would fall, not until Christina’s killers had been caught. But the warmth, the love that poured from her mentor was too much.

The door to her study finally shut.  Her partner had waited quietly in the wings for the others to leave. 

_They had been on a mission in Helsinki, on the trail of a dagger once owned by Leif Erickson when the telegram arrived at their hotel._

_She had collapsed onto the floor in the middle of the lobby with a cry of pain William hoped to never hear again, paper clutched in her hand.  He didn’t ask, knowing without a doubt that only one thing could bring HG Wells to her knees._

_Later, when he’d finally managed to get her upstairs and into her room he was able to pry the note from her hands.  Wiping the tears from his own eyes he left his sleeping partner to make arrangements for a trip to Paris tomorrow morning._

_Because of the brutal nature of the crime it was decided that Christina would be entombed in a small cemetery in Paris.  He had been in nearly constant contact with both Charles and the Warehouse the entire time as they planned accordingly.  With most of the Wells family in England, the memorial would be held there. With HG out for an indefinite period, Chataranga redistributed case files and McGivens met with The Regents._

_Helena had barely spoken the entire time they had traveled together, sequestering herself in Christina’s room for hours on end.  Her cousins were beside themselves with grief as was Sophie whose vague recollection of the events was troublesome.  He had once been a detective and if they didn’t have facts to go from the criminals would be far more difficult to track down._

The images of the small ceremony flashed through Wolcott’s mind as he sat in the corner, watching his friend accept condolences from those most important to her.  Helena was better, talking more and finally eating but remained a pale shadow of the woman he knew.

 

She looked over at him finally, needed to say something. His presence had been there the entire time.  His stalwart friendship helping to keep her above the abyss.  His partnership a reminder of the reason she hadn’t been there for her dear sweet Christina.

The endless wonder had turned to ash in her mouth.

“I’m going to need some time William,” she turned, watching him rise slowly from a chair near the door. “Time to get things sorted.”

“I know,” he smiled sadly. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

“And if I never return?”

“I’m your friend Helena, both inside and outside of the Warehouse.”

 

He turned to go, gathering his coat.  He wasn’t surprised that HG was unsure about returning to Warehouse 12.  If he was in her place, he definitely would not.

A hand gripped his shoulder like a vice, spinning him around and pulling him into a tight embrace.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

After a moment of shock, he returned the hug in equal force.


	66. Before a word was spoken my heart was broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well,” she leaned over the counter. “If you’re free Friday night why don’t you come over to listen?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many many 80s AU feels thanks to one of my favorite playlists. Many a shout out to mid 80s alternative albums.
> 
> Written as a thanks to Crazycat9449 for the amazeballs gif for my birthday.

During the day, the part of the day that you spend ignored (at best) or shamed (at worst) you focus on the clock. Waiting for the time that really matters to you.

You could work for your dad (and you do from time to time because you love books almost as much) but this is where you belong.  This is who you are.  Even if you don’t have to work you still hang out with Artie and Pete and Steve (plus his little sister Claudia) because Nielson’s Records is your home.

You saved up every penny of your allowance for that fanzine from Great Britain a year ago. Wanting to read about what was going on in the underground, still a bit bitter you didn’t find about Joy Division until after Ian’s death.  You do live in a suburb of Denver which is almost the same as living in a small town so there were reasons.

And that fanzine lead you to this record shop in the hopes of finding that Blancmange import (which you didn’t) but it did get you an after school job. So there’s that.

There’s a new shipment of records to sort and stock. Plus some new advertising from Interscope that Seattle label Sub Pop has to be placed.  So a lot to do.

Pete drones on about some girl he met at a party at the community college as you pull crates from the back.  Kelly sounds nice and you’re glad for Pete, but there’s work to be done. And you really want to listen to the new Kraftwerk that arrived last week before you went home for the day.

But then the bell at the front counter rang and Pete tripped with a full box in his hands and you knew things would have to wait.

“I’ll get it,” you smirk heading out of the stock room.

When you saw who stood at the counter you almost turned back around. 

Everyone knew who she was, because she was one of the in crowd thanks to her accent, good looks and good grades. Teachers loved to have the younger Wells in their class because of her intelligence.  The students because no one was more popular.

As an outcast you disliked her on principle alone.  And because her argument in advanced English three days ago had been better than yours.

“Oh hello,” she grinned. “I didn’t know you worked here.”

“I do,” you didn’t bother to smile, looking down at the records in her arms.

Okay, so _Black Celebration_ would have been enough to earn your respect but adding in _The Queen is Dead,_ _Candy Apple Gray_ and _Heyday_ was almost too much.

“You look surprised,” her eyes were filled with challenge.

“I didn’t think you’d be into this scene.” 

“There are a great deal of things that might surprise you,” she grinned. “Have you heard any of these?”

“Here and there,” you looked down, a bit flustered.

“Well,” she leaned over the counter. “If you’re free Friday night why don’t you come over to listen?”

“Really?”

“Oh yes,” her eyes sparkled. “I’ve also got a gem my friend Wolly sent me from England.  I don’t know how he found _Happy Endings_ …”

“The Blancmange album,” you squeak out.

“Yes.  I can’t wait to listen. Do you think you can come by?”

“What time?” you reply without thought.

“How about 7pm?” she smiles again. “We can revisit our discussion from class the other day.”

“Are you sure you want to go there? Things got pretty heated between us.”

“Definitely.”


	67. It’s a new dawn, a new day, a new life for me and I’m feeling good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was freedom in the open road, even if she didn’t have to travel far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick little AU set in the nebulous future of the Warehouse inspired by some changes that went on today in my personal life.
> 
> Roadie, this one's for you.

“Are you absolutely sure this is what you want?”

“Yes Irene, I’m sure.”

“Have you spoken with…”

“I have,” Helena cut in before Kosan could finish the question. “If the world is in jeopardy call me. If not, then please pull upon the vast resources of the Warehouse to solve the ‘case of the week’ as it were.”

Helena grinned broadly as she pushed open the door to the Regent Chalet.  After three years of random solo missions for the Regents she was done, debt paid in full.

Freedom never tasted so sweet.

 

“So she really did it?” Claudia looked over at Myka.

“She did,” Myka nodded not looking up from the paperwork on the sunroom table. “She gave her notice and turned in her badge.”

“Wow,” Claudia leaned back from her laptop. “I totally understand with all the Regents put her through but to walk away from endless wonder…”

“There’s more wonder in the world than what’s at the Warehouse.” Myka looked up.

Claudia smirked.

Myka smiled, blushing just a bit before returning to her report.

 

“So what did Myka say?” Steve asked as he helped Claudia sort Henson 314.

“Not much really,” she double checked the electronic tag. “She had this grin though. A shit eating grin if I ever saw one.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah,” Claudia moved to the next artifact tag. “As if she’d known all along how things would play out.”

 

Myka rented a car before leaving Univille for the weekend. She wanted something sporty and fast. A car that would let her put her hair down so to speak.  There was freedom in the open road, even if she didn’t have to travel far.

There was a quaint house about 15 minutes outside of Featherhead, complete with a white picket fence and porch swing  that was rapidly becoming more and more like home.  She looked over at the small box the passenger’s seat.

Myka smiled, thinking about the new chapter of her life that was about to dawn. And she was feeling good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And don't forget to check out the soundtrack/inspiration playlist for many of these rambles at http://8tracks.com/mfangeleeta/the-vodka-made-me-do-it


	68. Since I’ve come on home well my body’s been a mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I cheated myself like I knew I would. I told you I was trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Working through a bit of writer's block with this. Hope it works.

The light was blinding, even with your eyes closed it still burned.

“Damn, where am I?” you tried to swallow but your mouth was dry as a bone.

“Oh good you’re awake.”

“Wha…” you turned her head slowly towards the sound of an unfamiliar voice.

“Hey there,” a vaguely familiar man sat next to you on the floor Indian style with his elbows on this knees. “God you took forever to wake up.”  He unfurled himself as you sat up slowly. The pounding in your head making existing difficult.

“Come on,” he held out a hand. “We’re already late.”

“For what,” you refused his hand and stood on your own.

“The show,” he grinned again. “Oh I almost forgot. Drink this.” He ran over to a small table in the all white room.  “It’ll help with the head.”

You take the cup and smell the clear liquid suspiciously.  “What is it?”

“God’s gift for the ride,” he smiled again. There was something about him, like you had met before.

“Well things can’t get much worse,” you mumble drinking down the cup’s contents. Within seconds, you feel remarkably better.

“Wow. You weren’t kidding.”

 

The part of your brain that says don’t accept drinks from strangers and then follow them must be shut off because you find yourself hot on the man’s heals. 

“Where are we going?” you barely notice the long gray hallway that you’re traveling down. Not that there’s much to see.

“To the show,” he explains like you’re a six year old.  “She only comes down every once and a while so we’ve got to hurry.”

“Who? Comes down from where? And where are we by the way?”

“You’ll see.”

As if that explains everything.

You roll your eyes and hurry to keep up. This hallway is pretty long and this is definitely not the same way you came in (if you’re even in the same place you were before. But this doesn’t look like Frankie’s building in Queens. The lack of urine smell tells you that.)

 

Before you realize it you find yourself in a club straight out of last week’s Mad Men episode.

“What the fuck?”

“Oh good,” the man explains. “She hasn’t gone on yet.  We have time to grab a drink.”

You hold your Vodka Gimlet gingerly as the man who you definitely know from somewhere chats with the friendly bartender.  Scanning the crowd you can’t help but notice the mix match of styles worn by the rest of the club’s patrons.

The vibe and look is definite 60s (most likely mid ’62) and a good many people appear from that era. But there are definitely some leisure suits and shoulder pads in the house. Plus two men in the back look just like they just stepped out of 1893.

 

“Okay,” you pull your companion away from the bartender. “What’s going on here?”

“What’s the last thing you remember?” he asked just before taking a sip of his drink.

“I was leaving Frankie’s building,” you think for a moment. “I had to get back to Manhattan for dinner. Christina was at her uncle’s house for the weekend and Claudia had the night off.”

“And what happened?”

“I was running late,” you struggle to recall the details. “But I knew a cab would take forever. I was on the Subway. I was stressed so I didn’t wait till I got home.”

“You took a hit.”

“A small one,” you remember. “No one noticed. But something was wrong. Someone started screaming and then I woke up here.”

“What about dinner?”

“Third anniversary,” you smile but then quickly frown.

“I missed it.”

“You did,” his tone and face hold no judgment, only understanding.  

You finally realize who your companion is.

“Oh no,” tears fill your eyes. “Am I…”

“Not yet.” The lights dim. “Like I said she only comes here from time to time.”

The band starts to play a song you instantly recognize.  Seeing her live before she passed away several years ago is one of the concert highlights of the past ten years.

“You have a choice Helena,” he turns back from the stage as the audience cheers and stands. “Stay here and catch the show or head out. Try again. And do better this time.”

You catch the strains of the opening song as you rush towards the door.

_“He can only hold her for so long…the lights are on but no one’s home.”_

 

The light was blinding, even with your eyes closed it still burned.   A steady beeping sound filled your ears and you feel a weight on your hip.

Slowly you open your eyes to a hospital room and a mass of curly hair across your chest.

You smack you lips, just as dry as you remember them being in that other place.

Slowly you life your free hand towards the small glass on the nearby nightstand but you are clumsy in your weakness and knock the cup over.

“Bollocks.”

“Hey,” sleepy green eyes bore into yours.  “You’re awake. Thank God.” She surges up and kisses you fiercely.

To think you almost lost this.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.  Knowing it will be the last time you say it.

(Well, at least for this reason.  Because you’ll never remember to put the toothpaste cap on.)


	69. We must snatch each little scrap of happiness and live and suffer and pass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Tonight we celebrate something that rarely happens in our field. Retirement.” Pause, “by choice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of the Wells and Wolcott series found in chapters 30, 40, 50, 53, 54 and 62 of Vodka. With all of the cray of this final season I'm finding myself wanting to spend more time in this world.
> 
> This one goes out to Roadie who's convos about Warehouse 12 help bring this bit on earlier today.

“Helena,” Charles shouted from the bottom of the stairs. “What is taking you so long? We are already late.”

“Really Charles,” Helena appeared at the top of the stairs. “A lady can’t be rushed.”

“Hmph,” he grumbled as his sister sauntered down the stairs. “I didn’t realize that The Old Bell required extra primping.”

“I do not primp,” HG rolled her eyes as Charles helped her with her coat. 

“If you say so.”

“Is it so wrong to desire to look respectable at a retirement party?”

“If it were at any other place than the Old Bell and didn’t involve one of your fellow Agents I’d say yes.”

His sister paused for a moment, frowning deeply and punched him on the shoulder.

“HG,” he reached up and rubbed the now bruised spot on his arm. “Are we once again children?”

“Yes,” she grinned and stuck out her tongue. “Come along, no dawdling.”

 

“I was beginning to worry,” Wolcott greeted. He handed over a glass of Champaign to his partner.

“Come now Wolly,” Charles appeared behind his sister. “When does Helena turn down a good party?”

“Charles isn’t that Miss Spencer over their by Agent Patel? Why don’t you go over and say your hellos.”

Her brother quickly excused himself.

“Miss Spencer,” Wolcott shook his head. “Really HG. That’s wasn’t very nice.”

“He has been quite fond of her since the Christmas party,” HG explained, watching her brother chat with the manager of the boarding house where Wolcott and McShane stayed.  “And she is rather charming.”

“Oh I know,” Wolcott smirked. “I heard you charming her three nights a week for some time after that holiday gathering.”

HG laughed and clinked her glass with Wolcott’s.

 

“Attention! Attention!” McShane’s booming voice ending the conversation.

“Thank you,” he looked around the room. “I’d like to take a moment to say a few words about the man who brought us here tonight, Albert Holcomb.”

Cheers and clapping broke out from the crowd.

“Tonight we celebrate something that rarely happens in our field.  Retirement.” Pause, “by choice.”

More cheers and clapping mixed with laughter filled the bar. HG made eye contact with her brother who winked back.

“He is the third in the history of Warehouse 12 and deserves the best of well wishes. So congratulations to my friend and mentor. May the rest of your days be spent in peace.”

Another round of clapping and cheers. McShane motioned to the corner of the bar and a small band began to play, livening up the festive atmosphere even more.

 

HG spent several turns on the dance floor with McShane, Wolcott and even Agent Holcomb. She had joked with Chataranga and Patel about the daily amusements that the Warehouse seemed to bring. She had even managed a few heated moments in the cloak room with Miss Spencer before sending her back out to speak with her brother.

“Care for a smoke Agent Wells,” McGivens appeared in front of her, offering her a nice looking cigar.

“Well it has been some time,” she smiled. “After you.”

The pair found themselves on a small patio behind the bar and joined an already buzzed Agent Wolcott.

“HG,” he beamed, pulling his partner in by the shoulder. “Where have you been?”

“My dear Mr. Wolcott I fear that you might have had a bit too much to drink.”

“Perhaps just a wee bit.”

“Are you enjoying the party Mr. McGivens?” Wolly asked as he leaned more on the shorter woman beside him.

“Quite a bit,” the caretaker puffed for a moment. “It’s a rare thing for an Agent to leave on their terms. So many times their lives are cut short by tragedy of some sort.”

“Too true,” Helena thought of the three other Agents that had started around the same time as her many years ago. Two had died in the field and one was at Bethlem Hospital never to leave again.

“What I’ve learned in my years to is appreciate the small moments,” McGivens looked out over the small patio, not really seeing his surroundings. “The downtime spent in study or laughter or discovery.  The moments of triumph and joy. They are too few in our business and will become even more precious as we head into this new century.”

HG glanced over at Wolcott who, despite his inebriated state, seem to be in the moment with her. It was rare for McGivens to show his more human side.  She caught her partner’s eye who looked as bewildered as she felt.  

The moment was broken by the back door opening causing both she and Wolcott to look away from the Caretaker. Helena recognized Charles backlit frame.

“HG,” he called. “McShane is looking for you. Something about a bet the two of you have.”

“Bollocks.”  She cursed as Wolcott sagged against her again. “Mr. McGivens would you be so kind…” but the Caretaker had disappeared.

“It’s okay HG,” Wolcott slurred. “I’m fine.”

William stood up for a moment, swayed slightly and collapsed onto the ground.

 

 

“Well that was a successful evening,” Charles said as he helped his sister off with her coat. It was well past 3am when they finally returned to their flat. They had successfully moved Wolcott from the patio floor to his own bed and Charles had secured a lunch date with Miss Spencer next week.  Albert Holcomb had been sent off with much fanfare and love and Helena had quite enjoyed herself.

Her thoughts returned to the odd conversation with Mr. McGivens as she gazed at Christina’s picture before going to bed.   Small moments were to be treasured and if her plans were successful there would be many more soon to come with her beloved daughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this series is becoming quite involved. Readers, are you cool with this staying as part o the Vodka series or would you like to see it broken into it's own thing to make it easier to follow? Let me know what you think.


	70. Music and passion were always the fashion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her name was Myka, she was a showgirl...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So slow day at work plus disco plus bad weather all around me and this happened. It started out kind of crack-ish but then turned into angst. Sorry about that.

“Are we there yet?” Claudia whined. Steve had promised her a night of dancing at his favorite club. So far the night had been spent dodging puddles and giving cabbies the finger.

“Almost,” Steve grinned. “Like I said it’s a bit of a hole in the wall but the crowd is friendly and the music is hot.”

“I hope so,” Claudia tried not to look too closely down the dark alleyways they were passing. This wasn’t the best part of town to begin with. Dark and stormy only made it worse.

“Here we are,” Steve clapped his hands together.

“The Copa?” Claudia looked up at the flashing neon sign.  “I thought they closed this place down.”

“Nope. Now it’s a disco. Come on.”

 

Claudia did have to admit, the place had its own charm. The crowd was young and fun and she’d had all kinds of dance partners other than Steve.  The DJ, older looking guy with epic eyebrows, certainly did know this stuff. She’d have to ask him where he ordered his records.

“This place is great!”  Claudia shouted in Steve’s ear as they waited for another drink at the bar.

“Told you!”

Movement at the end of the bar pulled Claudia’s attention away from her friends.  That area was packed with young men openly flirting with each other. The press of bodies separated as an older woman stepped up and slid into a suddenly open bar stool.  The dress she wore looked to once be yellow and probably worn as a consume.  She had a regal air about her, with deep green eyes and long loosely curled brown hair streaked with gray.  Without ordering a dry martini appeared before her.

 

“Who’s the showgirl?” Claudia asked sarcastically, nodding towards the woman.

“Oh man,” one of Steve’s friends, Liam, shook his head. “Stevie how could you not tell her about Myka?”

“Myka?”

“The showgirl at the end of the bar,” Steve explained. “She used to dance here back when they had a floor show.  Was destined for Broadway, or so they say.”

“So what happened?” Claudia looked over as Myka finished the first drink and started on a second.

“She fell in love,” Liam told the tale.

_“Myka, three minutes!” Leena called through the door._

_“I’ll be,” she gasped as delicate lips trailed down her neck. “There in just a sec.”_

_“Okay,” Leena, a fellow dancer and Myka’s best friend smiled. “HG don’t make her late!”_

_Myka pulled HG’s mouth to her own, enjoying the last few minutes of privacy before the club opened and the show began._

_“You’ve got to go,” Myka rasped. “Pete will need help behind the bar.”_

_“Just a moment more darling,” HG’s purred, kissing Myka again._

_“Myka! HG!” Stage manager Fredric’s stern voice came through the door. “It’s show time.”_

_“I’ll see you later,” Myka smiled._

_“Count on it love.”_

_HG mixed another Manhattan and made small talk with the patron in front of her. Pete was at the other end of the bar trying to charm yet another young lady while the bar manager Mr. Secord was stationed at the far end keeping an eye on the crowd._

_“Mr. Secord,” one of the hostesses hurried over to the manger, “he’s here.”_

_“Thanks Rebecca.” He turned to HG. “Two of our finest bottles of Champaign HG for Mr. Sykes and his friends.”_

_HG nodded and headed to the back where they kept the good stuff._

_By the time she came out the notorious mobster Walter Sykes was seated.  Mr. Secord quickly took the beverage, on the house she was sure, to his table._

_“As if we didn’t have enough going on tonight,” Pete said a short time later.  “Sykes and his boys decide to come by.”_

_“Agreed.” She looked out onto the crowded dance floor. The second show was about to start._

_The band finished the song and the house lights dimmed. The crowd quickly made their way to their seats. Everyone knew the famous Copa floor show was about to start._

_HG has been tending bar for years and had seen the show countless times. She’d watched her love rise from a mere fill in back up dancer to the lead and tonight she was dazzling. The head of costumes, Mrs. Cho , had decided to dress Myka in an off yellow short cut dress. It was a brilliant idea since the entire audience was mesmerized during the performance._

_“Man your girl was fantastic,” Pete smiled as the lights rose and the band began again with One O’clock Jump._

_“She was.” HG smiled. They were young and so in love._

_Myka was only scheduled to perform in two of the shows that night so HG expected to see her at the bar before she headed to their apartment.  After about thirty minutes she sent Rebecca back to the dressing room to see where her love was._

_“Leena said that Mr. Sykes requested her to stop by his table,” Rebecca apologized._

_“Bollocks,” HG turned and looked to the VIP part of the club where Myka sat next to Walter Sykes. She could tell by her lover’s body language she was uncomfortable._

_“Stay cool HG,” Pete warned. “Myka’s a tough cookie. She’ll get out of there soon.”_

_So HG watched as the evening crawled on and Myka made repeated attempts to excuse herself from Sykes’ company._

_But then he put his hand where he shouldn’t and Myka slapped him.  Before she realized it HG was over the bar and heading towards the VIP section._

“A fight broke out. And then a gun went off,” Liam looked over at the end of the bar where Myka was finishing yet another martini.  “No one knows if it was Sykes or one of his goons that shot HG but either way their love affair ended.”

“So she comes here almost every night a week in the dress she wore that night, having drink after drink until Rebecca the manager takes her home.”

“How sad,” Claudia frowned. 

“That’s why they say don’t fall in love at the Copa.”


	71. So happy I was invited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “That is not why you were selected Agent Wells,” Chataranga replied harshly. “Your quick wit and ability to improvise was what separated you from your colleagues. Plus this.” he waved his arm across the work room. “I suspect that you will have some gadget of your own creating ready and waiting when the time comes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A look into the early years of HG Wells, Warehouse 12 agent. Part of the Wells and Wolcott Warehouse 12 universe found in chapters 30, 40, 53, 54, 62 and 69.
> 
> I've seen the series finale and the amount of Warehouse 12 head cannon I will pull from the first few minutes will be a lot. There are some small spoilers mixed in with this so if you must remain 100% info free then come back in a couple of weeks. If not, please enjoy and let me know what you think.

Three months in and she was hitting her stride as an Agent.  There was still much to learn about the curiosities that lined the aisles though.  And yes, she’d gotten lost in Pinkerton 455 more times than she’d care to admit. But for the first time in many years she felt at home.

“It’s like you were born for this place,” Sarah Donnelly, the only other female Agent currently at the Warehouse said one day as they completed the never ending inventory list.

“Coming from you Agent Donnelly that means a great deal,” Helena felt herself blush just a bit. She’d studied the older woman’s files and only hoped one day to be a fraction as good as the senior Agent was.

“I’m not that old yet Agent Wells. Don’t let these streaks of grey fool you.”

Their chuckling was broken by the sound of hurried footsteps.

“Agent Donnelly,” pause “And Agent Wells.” He could barely hold back the contempt when he said her name. “Chataranga has a case for us.”

“Excellent Agent Kipling,” Donnelly nodded. “After you.”

“He’ll get over it eventually my dear,” she whispered to HG as they fell in behind. “After all, the Warehouse doesn’t have a favorite, despite what Rudyard thinks.”

 

HG knew that Warehouse 12 had a full staff of Agents but she didn’t realize quite how many she had yet to meet.  She settled in the back of the room next to Agents McShane, Holcomb and Wolcott who she’d just met the other day in passing.

“The broach of The Green Dragon has made itself known again,” Chataranga began. He stepped next to a map of Europe that hung from the wall.  “There was a mysterious death here in Lisbon,” he placed a flag on the map, “but it wasn’t until incidents in Nates and Le Havre that we realized the broach had returned.”

“And what does this broach do?” one of HG’s fellow recruits, Agent Parker asked.

“The broach belonged to a Chin Emperor Ming T’ien, also called the Green Dragon. He was ruthless, so much so he had his own mother killed to spite one of his foes.”

“Nasty bugger,” HG murmured.

“Indeed,” Holcomb agreed.

“The broach will allow the wearer to harm whoever they think of in a negative manner. The darker the thoughts, the more twisted the death.  We’ve almost captured this curiosity twice during Warehouse 7’s time and later in Warehouse 9’s but it slipped our grasp.”

“We believe the broach is now in the possession of a Mr. Franklin Salisbury, a noted collector of antiquities from the ancient Orient.  He will be arriving in London in a little over a week’s time to meet with a dealer who has one of the bracers worn by Alexander the Great.”

“Isn’t that one of our curiosities?”  Kipling asked.

“It is indeed.” Chataranga nodded. “Which is why we will have a plan in place to ensure the successful capture of this artifact.”

“And who is to meet with our Mr. Salisbury?” McShane looked around the room. 

“One of our most capable agents,” Chataranga smiled and made contact with HG.

“Bollocks.” She cursed.

Kipling rolled his eyes.

 

 

“And what do we have here Agent Wells?” Chataranga help up the object.

“Oh,” HG looked up from her workbench. She’d found an empty storage room her third day as an Agent and made it a work shop of sorts.  Sketches for various projects hung on the walls. Parts of others were scattered in a bit of organized chaos across two tables.

“I’m calling it a Grappler,” HG pushed the goggles on top of her head. “I’ve got the firing mechanism complete but need to devise a way to fit a proper length of cable in the casing.”

“Interesting,” the older man looked over the Grappler for a moment before replacing it on the table.

“You have been quite subdued as of late,” slowly circled the office, pausing before the sketch of a shrinking ray. He smirked. “Are you well?”

“I’m quite chipper sir.”

“Really,” he turned. “Are you sure about that?”

For some reason HG found herself wilting under her mentor’s scrutiny.

“No sir.  I am not.”

“Because of this case?”

“Yes,” she pulled the goggles from her head. “Are you sure I am the right Agent for this? I am skilled but there are so many others with more experience than me.  Perhaps Agent Donnelly?”

“She was considered, but doesn’t possess the charm required to handle this situation.”

“Charm,” HG frowned. “And just went I thought my skills would be valued over my feminine wiles.”

“That is not why you were selected Agent Wells,” Chataranga replied harshly.  “Your quick wit and ability to improvise was what separated you from your colleagues. Plus this.” he waved his arm across the work room. “I suspect that you will have some gadget of your own creating ready and waiting when the time comes.”

“Oh. Well thank you sir.”

“No thank you Helena,” Chataranga smiled again. “Never doubt your value Miss Wells.”

 

“Jack the Ripper’s lantern, The Marquis de Sade’s crop and now The Green Dragon’s broach,” Agent Donnelly smiled as she placed the artifact on the shelf.  “Quite an impressive collection Agent Wells.”

“Thank you ma’am.” HG beamed. “I was wondering if you and your husband would care to join my brother and I for supper sometime next week.  I know Christina would love to meet you.”

“Do they know what you do?”

“Not just yet. They only know that I go to a place filled with endless wonder every day.  And that I’m happy to have been included in this world.”

“Well that is enough then.”

“It is. It is indeed.”


	72. Counting the clicks with the living dead, my eyes are red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My eyes are fallen  
> I'm having trouble inside my skin  
> I try to keep my skeletons in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two-fer kind of night. Moments on the run with the Astrolabe. Not the best of times.

She’d been on the run for almost eight months. Never spending more than a few days in any one spot, mostly traveling at night in the company of strangers. The Astrolabe a dead weight pulling her down more and more every day into the abyss.

There was a moment as she waited for her connector at the Greyhound station in Dallas when she wondered if maybe she shouldn’t have caved so easily at Yellowstone.

But then she saw the adorable Hispanic child asleep in his father’s arms. And watched the national news of the American football player kissing his male partner on the TV screens in the station.

She took that thought back. There was hope in the world.

But she was feeling so hopeless now.

 

If only Mrs. Fredric had allowed her to assist with the Brotherhood. Surely they knew her file and that she had dealt with the Vatican and their thugs in the past.

(Well, perhaps that is why they did not ask for her assistance.)

If only she’d been allowed to speak with Myka before she had left.  The woman, her friend, her savoir was away dealing with another artifact.  What harm would it have cause for her to spend a few hours with her friends?

(Because she did have a certain fondness for Claudia and Pete as well. And have never gotten a chance to thank Steve Jinks for what he had done for Emily Lake.  For she remembered.)

Suddenly her burner phone sprang to life.

She mouthed a silent ‘sorry’ to the father as she stood to get the phone. Only three people had this phone number. And if they called it wasn’t going to be good news.

 

 

She admired Jane Lattimer’s stoicism in the face of Leena’s death.  The Bed and Breakfast’s proprietor had been part of the team only a few years less than the man that had shot her.

And when Artie came to his senses and realized what he’d done. Well, she didn’t envy him in his grief.

Perhaps he would understand her better now.

But the call meant more than just the death of a lovely woman; it meant that Artie’s behavior had escalated. That the Astrolabe was in more peril than before.  And that this bus to Spokane would not be enough.

 

Twenty minutes later she was in a cab on her way to the DFW airport. She would need to be off this continent as soon as possible.  She only hoped the fake bank accounts the Regents had supplied her with had enough money for a long trip abroad.

Summer was approaching in Perth.  And it had been over a century since her last visit.


	73. Here I’ve been living on roofs made from sin, upward and outward “begin” "begin”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here I've been lucid I'm living within. Inwardly urgent, I'm sinking again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a few books that I've read that are so amazing and so heartbreaking that I've never read them again. Because I can't go through the emotional trauma again. Or the bad dreams. Cormac McCarthy's The Road is one of those books. (The movie was much happier than the book, if that tells you anything.)
> 
> So here's an AU set in the absolute desolation of that world. It's one of the saddest things I've written.

You lean back against the rusted hull of a boat, her weight an ever comforting presence against your front.  The light is a bit brighter here, further south and against the coast. The grey is a lighter somehow. It’s not warm, but at least it’s not the biting cold of the north.

But color and warmth remains lost from the world.

You look out across the black water, letting the stillness settle around you like a blanket.  There is no sound other that the waves. The birds died years ago, along with just about everything else when the apocalypse  came.

There had been three of you then. Safely outside the city thanks to a tip from your friend at the NSA.   You held your love and your daughter close when the power went out and the night sky had become blinding.

And for a time you thought you could make it. The three of you away from the after math of the end of the world. Cheating death because you had been clever.

She coughed roughly against your chest. You held her a bit tighter.

The cabin had been some time ago.  The three of you had been even longer before that.

You thought of a small unmarked grave a little ways off of the road.  Hidden so that your daughter could rest in peace and not become a meal for some scavenger.

Some human scavenger since the vultures died long ago.

Head south, you had pushed. Head south away from the deadly cold and the dark memories.  There had to be life in the south.  The sea, the ocean, something.  There would be life. There would be others.

And so you had willed this trip into being. How long ago you didn’t quite remember. The grey days filled with the blackened and rusting countryside blended into one nightmarish reality. Time lost all meaning as you struggled for survival.

You didn’t feel so clever now.

“Love,” her voice is weak.  She’s been coughing up blood for a while now.  You had once been pre-med in another world. She had tuberculosis. The love of your life, the mother of your child, had a disease that you couldn’t cure.

“I’m here,” you hold her tighter, watching the faint sun continue to set.  “I’ve got you. I love you.”

“I know,” she burrows into your chest. “Do you think I’ll see our daughter again?”

An overwhelming sadness presses down and you feel tears in your eyes for the first time in years. She is dying.  Today is her last day.

“Yes,” you kiss her head. 

“I love you.” She whispers.

You hold her tighter as the sun slips below the horizon. 

A cold wind comes across the water and you clutch you love’s still form to you.  Tomorrow you will bury her next to the sea.


	74. Fantasia on the Dargason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It could be worse,” Chataranga smirked. “Either of you could have been paired with Agent Kipling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update to the Warehouse 12 universe! This time it's Wells and McShane in their first mission together. We'll put this within the first six months of HG's tenure at the Warehouse. 
> 
> Check out the rest of the series in Chapters 30, 40, 53, 54, 62, 69 and 71. (Maybe I should break this out into its own thing.)
> 
> Points to who can guess where the title came from. And maybe a prize like a prompt fic. Any takers?

 “Good,” Chataranga looked down at a file on his desk. “This is for you.”

He handed a copy to the Agents before him. 

“What is this?” HG asked.  “Am I to be paired with Agent McShane?”

“Of course.”

After a moment they both spoke over each other.

“I think I’ve proven myself more than capable on solo missions…”

“Does Agent Holcomb know about this? I don’t think that he’ll…”

Chataranga held up his hand.  “Agent Wells you are more than capable but this collection requires two Agents. Agent Holcomb is taking a leave to visit his sister’s family. His niece is about to give birth to her first child.”

The pair sighed.

“It could be worse,” Chataranga smirked. “Either of you could have been paired with Agent Kipling.”

 

 

Agents Wells and McShane sat in silence as the carriage carried them south to Canterbury. An original manuscript of Gibbons The Silver Swan had surfaced.

“I have to admit I’m quite surprised no deaths have occurred,” McShane observed as he reread the report.  “You’d think with a verse such as ‘ _Farewell, all joys! O Death, come close mine eyes’_ the results would be worse.”

“I’m sure those listeners who turned into geese would beg to differ,” HG looked up from her copy of the report. “But I do suppose there are more fools than wise in this day and age.”

Silence fell again as the coach bumped along. HG could feel her partner’s stare.

“Do you have something to share Agent McShane?”

“I’ve read them you know,” McShane finally said. “Your short stories. Quite brilliant.”

“Really,” HG was surprised.

“Even if the concept of time travel isn’t new.” He smirked.

 

At one point the coach driver was tempted to pull off the road and make sure the occupants were okay. He had never heard two people bicker quite so intensely. Over some book or other nonsense.  People these days, he shook his head. Priorities all out of kilter.

 

By the time they arrived in Canterbury it was nearly midnight. Far too late to start an investigation. Luckily the inn’s proprietor was a friend of Mr. McGivens and had kept warm plates for them to sup on.

“I am sorry that you were stunned on my behalf,” HG admitted after they’d finished. “I didn’t realize that Chataranga would use you as an example.”

“Thank you,” McShane smiled. “It’s quite all right actually. You’ll get your share when the next group of recruits joins the Warehouse. A bit of a rite of passage really.”

“I feel as if it got us off on the wrong foot,” HG continued. “After our conversation today I now see than you are more than an animated target dummy.”

McShane narrowed his eyes as HG chuckled.

 

“That’s the lot of ‘em,” Farmer Edwards pointed to the flock of geese in his pen.

“Are you sure these are all animals found inside the town hall?” McShane asked as HG hopped the fence to examine the birds closely.

“I’m sure,” the farmer frowned as HG leaned down and picked up one of the docile animals. She looked over at her partner and nodded. That was clue enough that these were no ordinary fowl.

“Your companion. She’s an odd one mate.”

“HG?” McShane watched as HG spoke softly to the creature before pulling out a feather. After a moment more she gently set it back down. “She an Ornithologist.”

“A what?”

“She is a studier of birds.”

Farmer Edwards scowl deepened. “She needs to learn her place that’s what.”

McShane frowned. “Good day Mr. Edwards.  And remember do not separate this flock under order of the Crown. We will be at Sheppard’s Inn if you have any questions.”

“Farmer Edwards not your type of fellow?” HG asked as they headed back toward the inn.

“No.”

 

“And what of the singers Father Warrick?” HG sat next to the older man while McShane roamed the pews.

“They were part of the choir.” he sighed. “This is the devil’s work.”

“Perhaps. But we must find a solution. And quickly. Do you know what happened to the sheet music they were using?”

“I’m not sure,” the man clenched his hands together.

“When I misplace something important,” HG leaned in and spoke warmly. “I try to picture the location where I last saw it to start. I’m quite forgetful actually.” She smiled. “My daughter, Christina, is far better at keeping track of her things than I am of mine.”

 

“Excellent work HG,” McShane followed her out of the church. “I find it hard to believe you misplace anything.”

“Oh but I do,” HG admitted, thinking of Christina’s teasing voice as she helped her mother search their home for some odd or end.

“And you have a daughter?”

“Yes,” she swallowed. “Christina.”

“I was unaware you were married.”

“I’m not.”

“Oh.”

 

In the end finding the manuscript was quite easy and reversing its effects caused minimal disruption. They were able to effectively use one of their cover stories about an unusual outbreak of a certain plant that cause mass hallucinations and bid goodbye to Canterbury in three days time.

“What has you smirking so Agent McShane?” HG inquired as the same coach and driver brought them back to London.

“Though I am loathe to admit this,” he began, “I have enjoyed our partnership on this collection.”

HG quirked a brow. “I must agree. You are far more capable that I initially anticipated.”

McShane shook his head. “I’m glad to be a foil to your misconceptions Helena. I hope your ego didn’t take too big a bruising.”

“My ego?” she smirked. “Are you sure you want to open this topic of conversation?”

 

The driver shook his head again as the bickering resumed. Though he had to admit the tone of the arguments were far friendlier than on the ride into Canterbury.


	75. Oh remembrance so dear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “But I love Verdi most of all.” Helena continued, sliding a hand around the other woman’s waist. “His works will always remind me of times spent with Wolly, Roberta and Chataranga from Warehouse 12” she sighed. “And of Cecelia.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since we're saying goodbye to Warehouse 13 tonight here's an update to the ever expanding world of Warehouse 12. (Chapters 30, 40, 53, 54, 62, 69, 71 and 74)
> 
> This is based on Roadie's prompt of the first time Victorian!HG falls for a woman and ties in with my 'firsts' for HG in the Warehouse. There are a couple of shout outs to two of my favorite fic authors in there plus a Bering and Wells coda. 
> 
> So hopefully after several rewrites and title changes this works! Please let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!

Wolcott folded yesterday’s Times down just a bit so he could observe his partner work.  He sat in a ragged chesterfield chair that he and HG had dragged into her workshop right after they had been partnered on the Lockett case some five months prior. They soon found themselves in a comfortable routine of William reading while Helena worked after long days spent at Warehouse 12.

He had been surprised when Chataranga had announced they would be permanently paired together.  She and McShane had three successful collections in 1889 and took great delight in goading each other into arguments about everything under the sun.

There had even been whispers around the turn of the year that despite their acrimonious relationship she and Agent Kipling would be paired. They had successfully saved the Queen’s life during a critical retrieval and prevented the end of the world. 

_“I would rather be encased in Bronze,” he’d overheard Kipling say to Agent Donnelly while working on inventory a few weeks after the collection concluded.  “Than be partnered with that woman.”_

_“Rudyard please,” Donnelly chided. “She is brilliant and a fantastic Agent. Any of us should be so lucky to have a team mate such as her.”_

_William peeked through a break in the artifacts to observe the pair one aisle over._

_Kipling’s face was tight as he spoke. “I will give you that her skills as an Agent are adequate,” he growled out. “But that does not change what she is.”_

_Roberta looked up from her file, a stern expression on her face._

_“And what is that?” she replied sarcastically. “Your better?”_

_“An introvert.” He hissed._

_“What?”_

_“Ask her about Cecelia Livingstone.” He spat out._

 

For whatever reason that conversation came back to him as he watched Helena ticker with another of her inventions. He never found out of Agent Donnelly had inquired about Miss Livingstone and noticed no change in how the women interacted with one another. 

He looked down again at the Times, noticing a brief note about a society wedding that had occurred last week. A Miss Cecelia Livingstone had been married to an Arthur O’Malley one week prior.

“Ah,” he said to himself.  “That’s why.”

“Why what?” Helena looked up from the workbench.

“It’s nothing.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Something is afoot my dear Mr. Wolcott. An article in the Times perhaps?”

Before he could reply she swooped in with a chuckle and yanked the paper from his hands.

“HG please,” he clutched at air as she spun away from him.

“Let’s see what has caught your eye shall we?” 

He held his breath and her dark eyes scanned the page.  The smirk on her lips fell into a frown as she read.

 “I’m sorry HG I overhead Agent Kipling one day in the aisles going out about the connection Miss Livingstone and you once shared.”

“And do you share Kipling’s beliefs?” she asked coldly.

“Heavens no,” he scoffed. “That man is a cad.”

“And what of my predispositions?”

“What of them?”  He replied, genuinely confused by the question.

Wolcott leaned back in the chair as HG handed over the newspaper.

“You are a good man William Wolcott. And a better friend than I deserve.”

“Do you wish to talk about it?” he asked softly.

“Not at this time.”

 

“Roberta, if I might have a moment.”  William sat down at Agent Donnelly’s desk a few days later. They had been left to mind the office while their fellow agents completed inventory. Chataranga had dragged HG off to his workshop with a question on something mechanical.

“Certainly Wolly,” the older woman looked up, “I need a break from these damned reports.”

“It’s about Helena.”

“Is your partnership not working out?”

“We get along splendidly. It’s a question of a more personal nature.”

“Well shouldn’t you be speaking with Agent Wells then?”

“That’s just it. We get on well as co workers. We have many things in common. I dine with Christina and Charles at her home at least once a week.”

“But?”

“I feel as if I know nothing about her. About her past.”

“Does who she was really matter then?” Roberta met Wolcott’s eyes.  “Because the person she is now is a good one, is she not?”

“She is.” He replied confidently.

“But you’re still troubled.”

He sighed.  “Yes.”

“Then ask her, not me. For any information she might have said remains in my confidence. But for what it’s worth, I’m quite sure she will share more of her past in given a bit more time. I know she’s quite fond of you.”

 

Two weeks and one hectic retrieval later, Wells and Wolcott found themselves enjoying a game of chess in HG’s workshop.  The pair had spent the day with Chataranga and McShane testing ways to deliver neutralizer more effectively.

“I do hope McShane is all right,” HG said as she studied the board.  “He did ingest quite bit of the neutralizer fluid.”

“If only you two hadn’t been debating Othello so exuberantly.” 

“McShane fails to understand the subtle nuances of Verdi’s works.” She attempted to imitate her fellow Agent, “If it’s not being performed at Bayreuth it doesn’t qualify as opera.”  She scowled. “Rubbish.”

William couldn’t help but chuckle at HG’s indignant tone as she made her move.

“Very clever,” he studied the board for a moment. HG almost had him at check mate.

“Are you humming in an attempt to distract me?”  He looked up.

“Hmm,” HG’s mind was elsewhere.

“You’re humming,” he said again. “Something from Verdi I assume?”

“What?” she met his eyes, “Sorry Wolly, I was lost in the past for a moment.”

He waited.

“Verdi always makes me sentimental,” she smiled sadly.

“His work is quite beautiful.”

“Indeed.” She sighed. “I was at a performance of Nabucco some years ago.  Charles was a friend of the conductor for that evening at Covent Garden so we were given far better seats than we usual received.  It was during the first intermission when Charles had run off to talk to a school chum of his when I first met Cecelia.”

“Cecelia Livingstone?”

“Yes,” HG blushed a bit.  “She was accompanying her father while her mother was away visiting her sister in Manchester. It was a chance meeting for sure but one that was quite remarkable.”

“I found myself at a loss for words when she approached and asked if we had met before.”

“Had you,” William was riveted.

“I knew we had not, for hers was face I would not soon forget.” She leaned back in her chair with a faraway look in her eyes.  “I was charmed from the start. We talked of Verdi and other works we had seen at the Royal Opera house.  I later found out that she traveled in the same circles as Lady de Grey who had introduced me to Oscar Wilde.”

William sat enraptured as Helena spoke of her time with Cecelia. Of quiet moments in the library of Sir Livingstone’s home, of long walks through gardens of mutual friends, of quite dinners shared with Charles and sometimes Oscar.

“I had just turned 19 and I was in love.”  Helena sighed.

“And when I professed my undying devotion and the end of an evening spent at a performance of _Un ballo in Maschera_ she told me she knew, kissed me sweetly and told me never to contact her again.”

William clutched his chest. “Oh Helena,” he began.

“It’s alright,” she sighed. “Years have passed since that evening. And I am glad that she was able to find love elsewhere. I will always hold a fond place in my heart for Cecelia for I now understand why we could never be together.”

“Mark my words Helena, things will change someday.”

“Perhaps,” she looked down at the chess board. “But they will not save you from my check mate in four moves.”

 

 

“Is that Va, pensiero you’re humming?” Agent Donnelly looked up from her never ending paperwork some days later.

“It is,” William nodded. “HG snuck us into a performance two nights ago.”

“Her secret area in the rafters?”  Roberta leaned in to whisper.

“Yes.”  He beamed.  “How did you know about it?”

“I was young and in love once myself Mr. Wolcott.”

 

 

_Many years later…_

“Are you sure this is safe?” Myka asked as her legs dangled far above the stage.

“Of course,” Helena replied as the opening chords of La Traviata filled the hall. “I was quite surprised to find my secret seat still intact after so many years.  One of the first things I did when I returned to London this century to was come to the opera.”

“After MacPherson freed you?” Myka asked, leaning further into the comforting form of her partner.

“A moving performance of Parsifal,” she smirked. “McShane would have loved it.”

“Duncan McShane of Warehouse 12?”

“He was a bit of a Wagner fanatic.”

“Really,” Myka’s mind began to spin possible stories of a young HG Wells attending the premiers of works now considered classics.

“But I love Verdi most of all.” Helena continued, sliding a hand around the other woman’s waist. “His works will always remind me of times spent with Wolly, Roberta and Chataranga from Warehouse 12” she sighed. “And of Cecelia.”

“You’ll have to tell me more about them,” Myka turned and gave Helena a kiss. “But after the show.”

“Indeed,” HG grinned as the overture ended and the lights came up on Violetta’s salon.


	76. I reached out for the one I tried to destroy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three days until the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in Chapters 17 and 21 I began a dark divergence from season 3/4 cannon. Here is the next update in that installment. You'll definitely need to refresh your memory on those chapters for this to make sense.

“HG what is this?” Claudia asked, mini Tesla drawn.

“The beginning of the end I’m afraid,” Helena sighed, nodding to the three men before her.   “I’ve owed many debts in my day Miss Donovan. It’s time for me to pay them off.”

“You can’t be serious,” Claudia looked at the goons. She and HG were in Reno on retrieval.  The older woman had been a bit distant but the red head was used to that. Even after eight months back as an Agent full time she still didn’t quite fit in.

Now she understood why.

“You’ve been working for Sykes all along.”

“I’m afraid so.” HG smirked. “This is your chance to walk away Claudia. Walk away from the Warehouse because in three days time it will be a pile of ash.”

Claudia’s eyes widened.  “That’s not possible.”

“Oh but it is my dear. And don’t worry about Pandora’s Box. I moved that months ago to a safe location. Not even Walter knows where I’ve hidden it.” Her smile turned sinister. “I don’t need the world to lose hope, only a select few.”

“The Warehouse is your home.” Claudia pleaded. “We’re your family.  You’ve been whammied.”

“I assure you I do this of my own free will. Are you sure you won’t walk away?”

“Yes,” Claudia’s jaw tightened as she held the Tesla. They were on the roof of the El Dorado collecting part of the original 1946 Gold Nugget marquee that had migrated up from Vegas.  It had been an easy snag and bag until now.

 

“Mr. Sykes won’t like this,” Mr. Secord stood next to his boss. “This is a loose end.”

“Have I not been successful up to this point?”

“You’ve exceeded expectations,” Secord replied. “I’m surprised is all. Why allow her to live?”

“She is too talented to be killed as part of this mess,” Helena admitted as they looked at Claudia’s comatose form. “This will keep her occupied until the Warehouse is no more.”

The shrill ring of Helena’s Farnsworth ended the conversation.

“Hit me.” 

“Excuse me,” his eyes widened.

“Hit me. I will need to make this convincing. So hit me in the face. Hard.”

The Farnsworth continued to ring.

“Do it,” HG ordered. So he did.

 

“HG are you okay?” Myka’s concerned face filled the screen.

“Oh Myka,” HG’s voice shook. “We retrieved the artifact but there was an accident on the roof. Claudia,” HG swallowed.  “She fell.”

Secord watched from down the hall as Helena gave the performance of her life, describing in detail what had happened and how her companion was now in the hospital in a coma.

It was impressive and frightening all at once.  In his many years spent in the underworld no one would ever come close to her skills in deception.

“The doctors say it’s just a matter of time before she wakes up. They’ve agreed she can be moved in a few days.  Mrs. Fredric is my next call but I wanted to let you know first.”

“Artie will want to fly out there right away,” Myka glanced over at the older man who was clutching his chest.

“I can wait for him to arrive,” Helena offered.

“Okay,” Myka nodded. “Be safe.”

“I will.”

Helena closed the Farnsworth and smirked.

 

“And what of Agent Bering,” Jack asked as they headed out the hospital doors.  Their men would keep an eye on Claudia.

“Why is everyone so concerned about Myka?”

“She was able to talk you down before. What if she interferes again?”

“Oh she will,” HG looked over at her partner in this endeavor for nearly a year. “The Warehouse is her happiest place after all. There is no doubt she will try to stop me.”

“And what will you do?”

HG smirked. “If I told you that would be cheating. We are so close to our goal Mr. Secord, I will not be deterred.”

“And after?”

She signed. If things played out the way she hoped, there would be no after for her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little side note on this and the other mini fics in Vodka. I'm planning on finishing this and the Wolf of Wall Street AU before this series ends (yes, I have an endpoint in mind). And I'm plotting an longer installment for AU week over on Tumblr that could involve a cross over for the Warehouse 12/Penny Dreadful universe. 
> 
> And I feel like I should do something special if this story hits 10K in views because it absolutely blows my mind that this is even possible. So thank you to all of you who are reading this and keep coming back to this series. It's all over the place and at times quite insane but I love Bering and Wells so they bring out the best and worst in my writing ideas.


	77. The past is but the beginning of a beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Come with me if you want to live

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With a new AU week about to hit on Tumblr I've been kicking around some ideas. Here's one of them. Bering and Wells set in The Terminator movie series. Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think.

Overwhelming light.

Overwhelming pain.

Hard, smooth concrete beneath her.

She was in a parking lot in Los Angeles.

 

_“When you arrive,” Claudia had told her after reviewing the data from the tests.  “You’ll be disoriented. Hopefully you’ll jump to a secluded area.”_

_“Okay,” at times she felt disoriented in the brutal world she lived in._

_“And you’ll be naked.”_

_“WHAT!”_

 

It took a moment but her eyes finally adjusted. It was dark. Late at night she guessed since her surroundings appeared to be empty.  There were a few cars parked nearby. Looking down at her bare form she hoped for an open door and possible clothing.

 

_“You don’t have to do this HG,” John said from your doorway.  “Someone else can go back.”_

_“Hardly,” she sat up on her bunk, safely stowing a battered copy of The Time Machine away. “There is no one more qualified.”_

_John smiled and pulled out her desk chair. “Or more arrogant.”_

_“Self assured,” HG corrected with a smirk.  “No one has studied the past as closely as I have that has proven skills in combat.”_

_“Claudia,” he began._

_“Is too valuable,” she cut him off._

_“Steve,” he tried again._

_“Is too valuable to Claudia and to the detection of the imposters.”_

_He sighed. “Pete,”_

_“Is your second in command and just as valuable as you to the resistance.”_

_John ran his hand through his hair._

_“And you are just as valuable!” He stood suddenly and began to pace, arms crossed. “Not just in this fucking war but to me Helena. You are my friend .” his voice broke just a little. “And I’ve lost far too many of them.”_

_“Well perhaps with this trip I can prevent all that,” Helena stood and blocked John’s path. “If I go back and change the past, perhaps I can stop this war from even starting. Millions saved. The world as it was.  We owe it to mankind to try.”_

_“Who knew Helena Wells could be so noble?”  He joked._

_“Only you John Bering, only you.”_

 

Luck, such that it was had been on her side. One of the cars was unlocked and she was able to find somewhat suitable garments in the trunk as well as some cash.  If Claudia’s calculations were correct she had landed within a day or two of the T-800’s arrival. The time traveler had spent the past week cramming all the information she could find about this era. Reading every book, talking to anyone over the age of 60 who might have some firsthand knowledge.

She stumbled into an open yet empty all night diner to gather her wits.

“Coffee please,” she ordered softly as the waitress slipped a menu in front of her.

“Also,” she looked up. “If I might ask if I could see your phone book?”

“Sure honey,” the older woman walked behind the counter and set the large edition down on the table.

“Thanks,” HG smiled. “This might seem like an odd question, but could you please tell me the date?”

“You feeling okay?” the waitress looked over her haggard appearance. The clothes she had found fit her mostly, but where slightly too large and hideously mismatched.  “You’re not on something are you? Cause if you are you gotta leave.”

“I’m not on anything.  I’ve,” HG paused, “I’ve just returned from a long trip and I feel a bit out of sorts. I’ve lost track of the time.”

“Whatever. It’s October 26.”

“The year?”

After a skeptical look, “1984.”

“My thanks. And I’d like to have the number 2 please.”

“Comin’ right up.”

As soon as the waitress left, HG flipped open the white pages and scanned  the names. Claudia’s calculations had been correct. 

“Brilliant girl,” she mumbled as her fingers traced over the B’s.

“Bering, Myka,” she grinned. There were only four in the city of Los Angeles and the Terminator, being the machine that is was, would go in order.

She only hoped she found the right woman in time. The machines were about to lose the war once and for all so they gambled on a trip to the past to end the most important person to the human resistance.

The mother of its founder, Myka Bering.

 

The right woman, a Myka Ophelia Bering, sat slumped on her bathroom floor fighting back tears. She’d broken it off with Sam a month ago, but had agreed to ‘one last time’ before they parted ways. She looked down at the tiny strip that seemed to mock her for her foolishness.

She was pregnant.


	78. Well I’ve never been to England but I kinda like the Beatles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We've got a date tomorrow night.”  
> “Awesome!” Pete pushed in the 8 track, cuing up their favorite song.   
> The pair sang along with Never Been to Spain at the top of their lungs on their way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration comes from the most unexpected places. Here's an early 70s summer before college AU. As always, all feedback is encouraged and appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Myka smiled as the wind blew through her long hair. Pete sat in the passenger’s seat, singing along to her 8 Track of Harmony. She had worked for two years at Mr. Nielson’s hardware store to buy her neighbor’s old Skylark and she was going to make the most of the summer before college.

“Oh man,” Pete clapped his hands together. “I love their version of this song.”

The best friends sang along at the top of their lungs as they headed down the highway towards the first party of the summer.  Living in rural South Dakota didn’t provide them much for entertainment, so when Jack called saying there was a shindig going down at the lake, they were both in.

Myka looked over at her friend. This was their last few weeks together before Pete went off to basic. He’d been drafted, along with Jack, Steve, Will, Buck and so many of their graduating class. Pete’s dad had been a Marine who fought in Korea and they had both grown up on war stories.

But Vietnam was something completely different.

“You’re getting that look Mykes.”

“What look?”

“That sad look when you think about me leaving,” he turned the music down.

“Sorry,” she frowned, “you’re leaving. My best friend is leaving.”

“Not for a few weeks,” Pete replied. He turned and pulled a beer from the cooler in the back seat. “So let’s make the most of it. Deal?”

“Deal.”

“Jack told me that his neighbor’s niece is spending the summer,” Pete took a sip of his Miller. “And that she’s a fox.”

“Really,” Myka smirked. “What would Amanda think?”

“I wasn’t thinking about me Mykes.”

Myka blushed. Pete was the only one who knew her secret and was behind her all the way. It was one of the reasons she couldn’t wait to leave for college in the fall.  Columbia was a great school and a law degree from there would open definitely open doors.

But it was living in New York that excited her more. The riots on Christopher Street had made the national news. People like her living openly.  She couldn’t wait for September to get here.

 

Myka pulled her car next to Josh’s Mustang a little ways from the lake. “Josh must be on leave,” Myka nodded towards the car.

“Sweet,” Pete pulled the cooler from the back seat. “I’m sure Claude is beside herself.”

“Do you need a hand?”

“Nah,” Pete hoisted the cooler onto his shoulder.  “Oh but could you grab that six pack that I couldn’t fit in here? It’s on the floor in the back.”

Myka leaned over the side of her car, stretching to grab the last of the beer. 

“Come on you,” she leaned over more, the beer just out of reach.

“Do you need assistance?” an unfamiliar accented voice broke her concentration and she toppled into the back seat of her Buick.

“Fuck,” she squawked.

“Oh are you okay?”

Myka managed to pull herself up and turn around, her legs still hanging off the side of the car. I girl about her age with long dark hair and deep brown eyes looked at her with a mix of concern and mirth.

She was the most beautiful woman Myka had ever seen.

“I’m okay,” she blushed. “You just startled me.”

“Ever so sorry,” the woman smiled.  “I saw you draped over the side of the car and I thought you,” she swallowed. “Anyway, are you injured?”

“Nothing but my pride,” Myka managed to pull herself up and out of the car, snagging the elusive beer in the process.  “You must be the neighbor’s niece. I’m Myka Bering.”

“Helena Wells.”

“So,” Helena asked as the pair made their way to the lake. “Will I be able to look forward to more of these gatherings this summer?”

“Jack is the master of the lake party,” Myka nodded. “We’ll have at least one a month until he leaves.”

“Splendid.  I was afraid that the summer here would be quite dull.”

“Well anywhere is better than Univille.”

“I was thinking that I will get to see more of you Miss Bering,” Helena grinned.

Myka blushed again for a totally different reason.

The party was in full swing when Myka and Helena reached the lake. 

“Mykes!” Pete have her a high five.

“Guys this is Helena.”

“That’s Steve.  My best friend Pete. Claudia and her sister Claire. And this is Leena, Rebecca and you already know Jack. ”

“There’s going to be a quiz at the end of the night,” Claudia joked.

“I’ll be ready.”

 

By the time the sun had set and the bonfires blazed Helena had met everyone at the party thanks to Myka. The pair had formed a fast friendship and both had enjoyed themselves quite a bit.  Claudia and Claire broke out their guitars and an impromptu dance circle had formed.

Myka wished that she could say it was the effects of the beer but she knew the attraction she was feeling for Helena Wells was not alcohol induced. There was something about the English woman that had pulled her in from the start.  She’d long ago learned that the chances of finding a real girlfriend in South Dakota were none but she always hoped she’d find someone.

“Walk with me?” Helena asked, pulling her away from the light of the fires.

“I wanted to thank you for this evening,” Helena continued to hold Myka’s hand as they moved further into the darkness.

“I’ve had a great time too,” Myka smiled.

“I find myself quite charmed by you Myka Bering. My parents sent me here to my Uncle to prepare myself for school in America,” she explained, “and in the hopes of ‘curing’ me of my supposed affliction.”

“Affliction?” Myka’s voice held concern. “Oh no, are you sick?”

“No. Not at all.”

Helena stopped walking and leaned in quickly, placing a quick kiss on Myka’s lips.

“Oh,” Myka paused. “Oh!”

“I hope I haven’t been too…”

Myka cut her off with a kiss of her own.

After a heated few minutes they pulled back, smiles on their faces.

“Would you like to go out tomorrow?” Myka asked. “The drive in is playing Cabaret.”

“I’d love to.”

 

Myka smiled as the wind blew through her long hair. The moonlight shined down on the highway as she drove Pete home.

“Good party,” Pete looked over at his best friend.

“Great party.”  Myka thought of the heated kisses she’s shared with Helena under the stars.

“And Helena?” he asked.

“We’ve got a date tomorrow night.”

“Awesome!” Pete pushed in the 8 track, cuing up their favorite song.

The pair sang along with Never Been to Spain at the top of their lungs on their way home.


	79. Well I headed for Las Vegas, only made it out to Needles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Times are tough right now sugar pea, The Host had told her, but hold on. There’s love on the horizon. The kind that only comes once in a lifetime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another AU crossover, this time with Angel. Because all shows only exist in the Warehouse universe! ;)  
> I wasn't a regular watcher of the Buffy spin off so I apologize if the characterization is a bit off. There's a mention of a tie/preview to my Warehouse 12 universe too if you squint just a bit.   
> Thanks for reading and as always let me know what you think! I crank these out without a beta so feedback is always appreciated.

“Are you sure this is necessary?” HG turned to look at her companion as a portly demon squawked out Time in a Bottle.

“Yes,” Angel replied. “For old time’s sake.”

“In old times you and I spent a season in combat,” HG smirked. “A vampire with a soul,” she shook her head. “Who would have thought?”

“Says the one of the creators of science fiction that’s known as a man. Quit stalling.”

“Very well,” she sighed.

 

When HG Wells had appeared, over a hundred years out of time and just as feisty as he remembered, Angel had to take notice. She still seemed to be working for the Warehouse in some fashion, but had been vague as to what exactly she did for them.

_“I am protecting them from a great evil,” she explained as she stood in the lobby of the Hyperion._

_“Great, another Buffy,” Cordelia sighed. “As if we need another hero complex in the group.”_

_“I still can’t believe that HG Wells is a woman,” Gunn smiled. “Next you’re gonna tell me the time machine is real.”_

_“Actually,” HG began._

_“Guys,” Fred hurried in, “she’s got the Astrolabe. Remember when we all felt like we repeated that one Thursday a few months ago?”_

_“You didn’t,” Angel looked at his former foe._

_“I did not. But someone else did.”_

And so HG had found herself spending a few months in Los Angeles getting to know this version of Angel and helping out his friends with various supernatural cases.  Demonology was not her specialty, but since working the Mina Murray case in Warehouse 12 she had always been fascinated by that world.

Which had brought her to this moment, sitting at a table for two in Caritas waiting for The Host to call her name. She was about to move on and Angel insisted that they stop by for a drink and to hear about her future.

“I know what’s it’s like,” Angel leaned over the table, “to always be on the road to redemption Helena.  And I can tell whatever your doing is eating you from the inside. I know this will help.”

“And how can you know me so well Angelus?” HG wasn’t convinced.

“I just do,” he smirked.  “Do you know what you’re going to sing?”

“Of course.”

HG had heard the song one day in the office. Artie had pulled out some of his favorite records for Claudia as the pair discussed modern popular music.

 

The Host watch as the dark haired woman sang through the Hoyt Axton classic.  Her aura was a brilliant mix of light and dark. She was human, but well out of her era. It had been awhile since a stuck time traveler had visited the bar. And someone who’d known Angel for quite some time.

Lorne could see she was torn. Duty above everything else, including love.  She was running for multiple reasons and still hurting from the death of a loved one. But there was so much love and joy in her future, if she could only hold on for a while longer. The color green was everywhere.

“Great song choice,” Lorne complimented HG as she left the stage. “It must be hard being stuck out of time. I know the feeling.”

 

“Thank you,” HG looked down at her lap as she and Angel headed back to the hotel.  

“You’re welcome. Did you get what you needed?”

“Yes.”

 

_Times are tough right now sugar pea, The Host had told her, but hold on. There’s love on the horizon. The kind that only comes once in a lifetime._


	80. I see the passion in your eyes, sometimes it’s a big surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You laugh as she pulls out a wine cooler from the chest. “Fancy a drink?” she offers the Strawberry flavor (your favorite) to you.  
> “With you? Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh inspiration, you fickle companion. I should be working on Degenerate, my Penny Dreadful/Warehouse 12 crossover and my Terminator AU but this came first. Pulling on some past experiences from yesteryear for this one. Thank you so much for reading (I think this might get me one of my silly goals) and as always please share your thoughts.

You look at your partner of nearly 20 years as you watch a band you sort of liked when you were young play with various lead singers on the TV.  The band is being inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame or some such nonsense. You’ve never been a fan but you can appreciate their importance.  That year had been a key one for you as well.

 

_The house where you lived didn’t allow drinking inside. It was a strict rule that could lead to the loss of your free room.  You’d come here on a scholarship and there was no way you were making that call to your mom._

_Not to mention you were 18 so this was totally illegal._

_So you gathered some lawn chairs and parked yourself out back for hours with a few of the girls and a neighbor. January was the same as it always was. Warm and somewhat humid. Not quite time for shorts but definitely patio weather._

(You’d only lived one year in that house, deciding that you’d move in with some sorority sisters the next year. Little did you know about the horrors of a next door neighbor found dead and the endless reruns of Full House you’d have to endure. But that was another story.)

_After the chats about getting the classes each wanted and how the break had been spent you approached the moments that, even then, you knew would stand out._

_Your neighbor, an international student from England had managed to snag the seat next to yours. You shared a Lit Class together but had only spoken in passing. She was stunning and you knew you could be into her without a doubt. (You suspected that you were probably into girls for some time, but small towns and prejudices had kept those thoughts to yourself)._

_“So,” the girl from across the hall Claudia asked, “have you guys seen that video with the Goth cheerleaders?”_

_“Oh yeah,” Leena, her roommate replied. “It’s crazy.”_

_“You can barely understand what he’s saying,” Rebecca, another one of the scholarship house girls chimed in. “What’s that all about?”_

_“I think it’s cool,” you blurted to the surprise of the other girls. “I mean, I’m not sure if I like it but it’s so different from what plays on MTV right now. And on the radio.”_

_“I agree,” your neighbor, Helena nodded. “There’s something so compelling about the images. The bleak outlook for our generation.”_

_And then the debate had begun in earnest.  It was you and Helena versus Claudia, Leena and Rebecca about the merits of this new movement from the Northwest and if it would have any lasting effect. In that moment you realized a couple of things. One, that the details of this night would fade thanks to time and too many wine coolers but the power of recognizing a cultural shift would not. Two, that you would defiantly befriend Helena Wells, your intriguing neighbor, and hope that she might swing your way._

“That was a fitting tribute,” your wife looked at you as the last singer finished. “It was refreshing that they chose female artists to sing during the ceremony.”

You hum your agreement, still lost a bit in the past. Thinking about the first date that you didn’t know was a date you went on with Helena a few days later after wine coolers in the driveway.  The Hand that Rocks the Cradle was playing at Movie and Suds. It wasn’t the most romantic start but the drive around town after  and hours spent making out  certainly were.

“Darling?”

“Sorry,” you pull yourself out of your head. “I was just thinking about that night in the driveway.”

“I remember it well,” she smiles and moves closer. “You and I were in agreement on quite a few things that evening.”

“Yeah.”

“You were so beautiful in your passion.” She smiled. “And over a silly song. I was smitten.”

You pull her closer and she easily slides onto your lap. “It wasn’t a silly song.”

“I know. But I will never be a fan of that band. But of you? Always.”

She leans in to kiss you. And after almost 20 years she still leaves you breathless.

With a smirk she stands and offers you a hand.

“It’s a lovely night,” she beings, leading you outside where a cooler waits on the patio of your home. She bends down and flips open the lid.

You laugh as she pulls out a wine cooler from the chest. “Fancy a drink?” she offers the Strawberry flavor (your favorite) to you.

“With you? Always.”


	81. The Warehouse Never Quite Leaves You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I am well aware of your current state Agent Wells,” Mrs. Fredric’s voice came through the tiny speaker. “But this is a unique situation and your expertise is required. Given your current career you should have no problem lending your insights to this situation.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the result of a hilarious and somewhat insane twitter conversation that happened the other day. It involves a three universe crossover, set sometime post Boone but pre-series finale Warehouse 13 and the early part of season 2 of Orphan Black. 
> 
> Behold the glory of crack!fic. Thanks for reading.

Helena sighed into the phone, “Irene, you do understand that I no longer work for the Warehouse.”

“I am well aware of your current state Agent Wells,” Mrs. Fredric’s voice came through the tiny speaker. “But this is a unique situation and your expertise is required.  Given your current career you should have no problem lending your insights to this situation.”

“All of my research with Dr. Moreau is currently housed in my aisle at the Warehouse,” HG began.

“Which currently is in route to your present location as we speak,” Irene countered.

Helena fell silent. She looked at the closed door to her bedroom. On the other side was the start of a new relationship, one with more promise that what she’d found in Boone, Wisconsin.  And though she chatted with Myka on a regular basis she still could not bring herself to set foot in South Dakota. 

It was a slippery slope back into the world of endless wonder.

“Fine,” she huffed.  “I will consult on this case. But this does not mean I am on the path back to the Warehouse.”

“Agreed.  I know that Dr. Cormier will appreciate the assistance.”

HG rolled her eyes. “And you owe me for dealing with an Immortal. They are almost as bad as vampires.”

 

Helena agreed to meet Dr. Cormier on a Sunday two weeks later. She had reviewed the files that the geneticist had supplied and supplied ideas on tests the pair could run.  Despite being mostly raw data and notes from both Dr. Cormier and a Dr. Niehaus she suspected that there was more at stake than a research project.

“Agent Wells,” Dr. Cormier greeted. “It’s an honor to meet you. Please call me Delphine. Welcome to the DYAD Institute. If you’ll follow me, the lab is this way.”

“Thank you, and its HG,” she corrected. “I haven’t been an Agent in some time.”

The French woman smiled. “But in never leaves you. I still think of my time spent with Warehouse 8 fondly.”

“The Sweating Sickness,” HG nodded. “I’ve read those files. Quite brilliant work.”

“Thank you. I was afraid that I would be called back to service when it reappeared but it seems that the current Agents are quite capable.”

“They are.”

They pair fell silent as they made their way to the lab.

 

 

At the fourth failed attempt at manipulating the test cells, Dr. Cormier slammed her fist into the counter.

“Are you well?” Helena asked. She knew her ideas were a long shot a best.  Moreau’s samples were over 100 years old.

“I’m fine.”

“This case,” Helena read the doctor’s body language, “this isn’t just a research project. You know this subject personally, don’t you.”

“Yes,” Delphine admitted. “And her stubbornness is going to get her killed.”

“She’s afraid,” HG offered. “She is facing mortality far sooner that she should. Fear can make you act quite irrationally at times.” She leaned a little closer, “and you love her.”

Delphine blushed a bit. “More than I thought possible.”

“Does she know? About you?”

“Oh no,” Dr. Cormier shook her head. “There are few who walk this Earth that know what I am.” She sighed. “At least those who still have their head.”

“Have you ever thought what an Immortal’s cells might be able to do?”

“Daily,” Delphine sighed.  “But I learned many years ago that my DNA isn’t compatible with humans.”   She quickly changed the subject. “Let’s try again.”

 

The sun had set by the time Helena bid goodbye to Dr. Cormier.  She was disappointed that their work together hadn’t produced better results but they’d promised to stay in touch and exchange ideas.  Plus hearing a bit about working in such a famous Warehouse had been a delight.

The doctor had been right, the Warehouse never quite leaves you.

Pulling out her phone she hit speed dial.

“Hello Myka. I was wondering if you’d be free for coffee later this week?”

 


	82. Well I’ve never been to heaven, but I’ve been to Oklahoma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> September 1974

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm, seems there's still a bit of juice left in the world found in chapter 78. There's angst and there's hope in this chapter that's total procrastination for my other works. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and for feedback.
> 
> Oh and also HOLY CRAP OVER 10K IN VIEWS. Wow, just wow. I honestly started this series because of the description but then it became a catch all for my insanity. I realize that not all of this is great stuff, but many of you have been there (and continue to be there) reading installment after installment. Sincerely thank you. Thank you for those who read here (and on Tumblr) and have never said a word. And to those who chime in with thoughts or feedback, an extra special thank you for letting me know what you think.

Helena watched as Myka shakily set the phone down. They had been living in the small one bedroom for just over a year. It was cramped and the heating was hit or miss in the winter, but it was theirs. It was 1974 and they were both entering their third year at Columbia.

“We have,” Myka swallowed, not taking her eyes off the phone.  Helena stood and moved within reach of her love. “We have to go home.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Pete,” Myka turned her eyes full of tears. “That was his sister. Pete’s gone.”

 

They left the next day.  Helena had spoken with each of their professors and much to her surprise they understood. Mr. Nielson, the toughest professor on campus, even told them not to worry about the assignments for his class.

His son had been drafted the same year as Pete.

It took just under a full day of nearly non-stop driving to get to Univille. Myka and Helena had taken shifts, drinking more coffee than humanly possible and managing to snag sleep in the back seat of the Skylark. Myka had hardly spoken the entire trip. Helena, having only spent one summer and a Christmas getting to know Myka’s childhood friend was saddened to hear of his death in the war.

But she wasn’t devastated. Unlike her girlfriend.

“My parents,” Myka explained as they hit the city limits. “My parents can’t know about us.”

“Of course.” Helena more than understood.

“No one can know,” Myka continued. “Pete was the only one.”

 

The three days spent in Myka’s hometown were a blur. Myka’s parents were lovely and supportive of their daughter, as was her sister.  Many of the people Helena had met over the summer of ’72 came into town for the funeral.  Steve and Jack were stationed in the States and got a three day leave, Rebecca flew in from California and Claudia headed home from S. Dakota State.  Leena drove up from Grambling with her cousin Irene who had babysat the Lattimer kids many years ago.

 

After the wake, Myka had pulled Helena aside and headed for the car.

“Where are we going?”

“Someplace private.”

Helena couldn’t help but smile as they parked next to the lake. It was late September, a bit cool for a swim but lovely for a walk in the country.

“This is where we met,” Helena leaned against her side of the car.

“It is,” Myka smiled and leaned into her girlfriend.

After a moment the taller woman pulled back.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “For being here. For understanding.”

“Of course. I love you.”

Myka leaned in for another kiss.  “I love you too.”

Lost in each other the pair didn’t hear the sound of cars pulling up.

 

“Man guys,” Claudia’s voice caused the lovers to spring away from each other. “Get a room.”

“I think it’s cute,” Leena breezed by the stunned pair carrying a grocery bag.

“More like hot,” Jack called out, lifting a cooler out of the trunk of his car with Steve’s help.

“If you’re into that sort of thing,” the Army Corporal replied with a wink at the girls.

“Whenever you’re ready to join us,” Rebecca added as she followed the group. “We’ll be down at the fire pit.”

 

“I thought Pete was the only one,” Helena pulled Myka close. “I suppose we’re quite bad at hiding our feelings then.”

“He was.” Myka smiled. “We are.” She leaned in for another kiss.  “I’m going to need your help with this. All of this.”

“I’ll be here as long as you need.”

“Even if it’s forever?” Myka felt her heart speed up at the question.

Helena’s eyes softened. “Forever it is then.”

 

The pair walked hand in hand to towards the bonfire.


	83. Moving On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you ready my love?” Helena held out her hand, a brilliant smile on her face.  
> Myka pulled her in for a kiss.  
> “Always.” She smiled. “Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, yes I know I said I wouldn't do any season fix its other than the one but a hilarious conversation with apparitionism about series finales made this possible. So blame her.
> 
> I give you a bittersweet series finale in the vein of one of my other all time favorite shows Lost. (Four years later and I still burst into tears in the final ten minutes of that show). I hope this works.

Myka hesitantly stepped into the small room, not quite sure what she’d find. Helena had kissed her in the jeep and told her to meet her in the church when she was ready. 

_“Ready for what?”_

_Helena smiled, “to leave this place.”_

Her breath caught at the site of the coffin. 

_Artie had been vacationing in Australia enjoying his retirement from the Warehouse when he suddenly collapsed. By the time Myka, Pete, Steve and Claudia had arrived in Sydney it was too late. Myka and the others had agreed to travel back with Artie’s body to South Dakota while Mrs. Fredric collected Claudia and left someone to help._

_Mrs. Fredric had chosen to leave HG Wells, now a Regent, to oversee the entire transportation._

_They returned home and gave the most successful Agent in Warehouse history a proper burial. Then odd things began to happen.  People from the flight began to be affected by artifacts.  After the fifth case, involving her friend from the flight, Dr. William Wolcott she knew something had to be amiss.  Pete, after a heated discussion with Steve, left suddenly needing to go to Los Angeles._

_Myka had been working alone in the office when HG rushed in, a somewhat wild look in her eyes._

_“Helena?” Myka was worried, “are you okay?”_

_“Oh yes,” her eyes brimmed with tears, “do you remember?”_

_“Remember what?”_

_The Regent held out her hand, “come with me.”_

 

Myka walked over to the coffin and touched its surface.

_She was running through the wreckage of her flight._

_She was giving Pete a high five on the beach._

_She smiled watching Steve and Liam cuddle next to a campfire._

_She argued with Chataranga about the nature of the island they were trapped on and how it intensified artifacts._

_Helena sitting by a stream, shaking her head as she lowered her gun._

_Helena running into the shelter trying to escape the rain, laugher on her lips._

_Helena smiling as they swayed together under a moonlit sky, before pulling her into a kiss._

_Helena saying I love you for the first time._

_Helena leaping in front of Myka as Valda’s gun went off._

Myka sprang back from the coffin as the memories of what had happen swept over her.

“Hey kiddo.”

“Artie?” Myka spun around “what are you doing here? You died.”

“Yes” he shrugged his shoulders.  “Yes I did.”

“How is this possible?” Myka’s eyes widened.  “Oh God,” she realized. “I died too.”

Artie pulled her into a hug as she burst into tears.

“It’s okay,” Artie said as he pulled back.

“Is this real?”

“Of course,” he smiled. “I’m real, you’re real, all those people in the church are real.”

“But how,” Myka shook her head, “how are we all here now?”

“We all have to die sometime Myka. Some before you, some after.”

_She remembered staggering through the bamboo forest. Valda was dead and the doomsday artifact destroyed. The island was finally safe. Steve and Buck should be out of the cave by now. Hopefully the others made it to the rescue plane.  She clutched her side, knowing the stab wound was a fatal one_

“Why are we all here now?”

“Well Myka there isn’t a now, per say. This is something that you created so that you could all find each other.” he smiled. “You were part of each other’s lives during the most important part. Nobody does it alone. Plus you need one another.”

“For what?”

“To remember,” he smiled, “and to move on.”

“Move on to what Artie?”

“Endless wonder.”

 

Myka followed Artie out into the church, smiling at all of the familiar faces before her. 

“Glad you could make it,” Mrs. Fredric smiled and shook her hand.

Steve pulled her into a hug, followed by Liam.

Rebecca hugged her and introduced her to Jack.

 Myka spent a long time hugging Leena as the tears flowed.  “It’s been too long.” She whispered.

Pete made a joke and she punched him in the shoulder with a smile. “Are you ready for an eternity with this guy?” she joked with Kelly.

“Always.” the doctor smiled.

She saw Vanessa standing next to Jane and Kosan and shot Artie a wink.

Her eyes finally landed on Helena. Flanked by Wolcott, McShane and Chataranga she was radiant.

Dark eyes met hers.

_Myka fell down, unable to walk any further. She moved onto her back, wanting to see the sky one last time. She smiled as the jumbo jet carrying Pete, Liam and the rest of her friends overhead. They would survive. The Warehouse would go on._

“Are you ready my love?” Helena held out her hand, a brilliant smile on her face.

Myka pulled her in for a kiss.

“Always.” She smiled. “Let’s go.”


	84. We were making the future and hardly any of us troubled to think what future we were making.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Come with me if you want to live

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of my Terminator AU started in chapter 77. Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think!

“Don’t you think it’s kinda freaky,” Leena asked as she picked up table 10’s plates. “Those girls had your name.”

“It’s just coincidence,” Myka picked up the order for table 13, “plenty of people share names.”

“Myka Abigail Bering,” Leena followed her out from behind the counter. “Myka Ingrid Bering. Other than the middle name, the exact same spelling and everything!”

Myka felt her stomach roll as the smell of meatloaf hit her.   She wasn’t sure if it was Leena’s pestering or the baby inside her that was making her feel queasy.

The waitresses delivered the meals and headed back behind the counter. Leena continued the conversation.

“Have you talked to the cops? Do they know anything?”

“I haven’t had time to return their calls,” Myka admitted. An Officer Nielson had left several messages over the past couple of days but she didn’t have courage to pick up the phone.  “I’ve been working doubles since Deb quit and I’ve got a killer midterm to study for.”

“But they’ve called?” Leena leaned against the counter.

“Yes,”

“Well don’t you think…”

Leena’s comment was interrupted by table 8 calling her name.

“I’m trying hard not to right now,” Myka said to herself as she heard the pickup bell ding.

 

Helena watched from down the street as the third name on the list, Myka Michelle Bering, knelt down to work on her flower bed.  The retired school teacher was well past her child raising years and wondered if perhaps Myka had been his grandmother.

She concentrated on the past, thinking back to the picture John had given her so many years ago.

 

_“Here,” he smiled as he handed the worn photo over. “I want to you keep this for safe keeping. I don’t know if I’ll make it back from this raid.”_

_“And who’s this?”  Her dark eyes were captivated by a young woman with dark brown curls held back by a sloppy hair tie. Despite her grim expression, her beauty was breathtaking._

_“My mom,” John sighed. “It’s the only picture I have of her, taken a couple of months before I was born right before the bombs fell.”_

_“I will guard it with my life,” HG nodded._

_She had kept that picture long after John returned from that mission._

 

Shaking her head she knew that this woman was not who she sought. Nor had the two women already killed by the terminator.  That left only one, a Myka Ophelia Bering, to find and protect.

 

“I told you this would be fun,” Rebecca shouted in her ear, spilling a little of her drink on Myka’s shirt.

“Yeah,” Myka gave a faint smile, “great.”

Her roommate had somehow managed to drag her out to a popular off campus club. Mid terms were over and Thanksgiving break was on the horizon.  There had been another death reported yesterday out in Pasadena of 55 year old Myka Michelle Bering.  When she opened the phone book, Myka realized that she was the last on the list.

The college sophomore had been playing phone tag with Detective Nielson all day, feeling more and more nervous as time passed. No one knew she was pregnant yet either, which only made things worse. Normally she would’ve turned Rebecca down on a night out but she needed a break, even if for a few hours.

Myka sipped her tonic water and scanned the crowd.

“Isn’t that Jack over there?” she nodded towards the pool tables in the back of the club.

“Oh it is! I’ll be right back.”

Myka chuckled as Rebecca made her way over to the guy she’d been crushing on all semester. 

“Oh crap,” Myka turned quickly as she saw Sam walk into the bar behind a huge guy in black leather jacket.  There was no way she was ready to tell her ex that he was about to be a father.

She hurried around to the far side of the club and took a seat at a small table just off of the dance floor.

 

Helena had tracked the last Myka Bering this overly packed nightclub full of drunken children. Granted, she was only a few years older than many of the people she observed on the dance floor but growing up in a world destroyed by machines tended to put the frivolity on display in perspective.  Resources in the future were scarce, so to waste energy  and time drinking and cavorting were out of the question.

If things worked out as she’d hoped, however, she and others of her generation would be able to enjoy nights like this.

Movement by the door caught her eye as a large man looking very out of place entered the club.  It was dark but she recognized that form anywhere. 

Time seemed to slow as Helena watched the machine scan the patrons, searching for the last Myka Bering.  After a moment the creature began to shove people out of the way as he headed towards the back of the building.  HG’s eyes widened as he pulled out his weapon. People began to scream and run for the nearest exit.

 

Myka didn’t notice the large man shoving people out of the way as he moved across the dance floor until the screaming started. Suddenly there was a gun pointed at her head. The killer had found her.

Gunshots rang out as more people scattered. The man fell back stunned as more bullets struck his chest, falling to the ground several feet away from her.

A woman with jet black hair and deep brown eyes appeared in front of her. She held out her free hand.

“Come with me if you want to live,” she said in a surprising calm and slightly accented voice.

Without thought Myka grabbed the hand and let herself be pulled from the club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couple of notes. I've started breaking out some of my mini series over on fanfiction.net for those who are intersted. I'll eventually do that over here as well. First up is the 1930s AU (thanks Roadie for the prompt) called All of Me. All the parts are up ready for your reviews. 
> 
> I'm working on more WH12 stuff and need to get something going on Degenerate. Struggling to get my head into those spaces right now, but there will be more for both.


	85. Crown Imperial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After circling the grounds for the third time, HG found her disheveled partner under a tree.   
> “Are you all right?”  
> “Just give me a minute,” he nodded toward the prone form of a giant man some ten meters away. “I had to subdue that brute. Do you think I could receive two points for him?”  
> Helena assessed the massive man. “Indeed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back in my favorite world of Warehouse 12 as the Agents find themselves dealing with the events surrounding Victoria's Diamond Jubilee.

“Bloody hell,” HG cursed as she subdued another crackpot. The demented man made her sixth of the week.

“Victoria will have your head,” the mad man shouted, squirming as Helena cuffed his hands behind his back.

“There you are,” Wolcott wheezed over her left shoulder.

“So glad you could make it,” she quipped. “If you would join me once and a while on my morning calisthenics these long foot chases wouldn’t be so tiresome.”

“Yes yes,” Wolcott rolled his eyes. 

HG pulled the prone man up as the Bobbies approached.

“Another for Her Majesties jail cell,” HG smirked as the officers hauled him away.

“I believe that puts us in the lead,” Wolcott pulled out a small notebook from his pocket and made a tick mark.

Helena gathered herself and followed her partner out onto the crowded street. Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee had put all of London on alert.  Even the Warehouse Agents had been pressed into service to keep the peace and an eye out for curiosity mischief.  

Many of the Agents resumed their former roles for the Empire for the duration of the celebration.  McShane found himself in a military uniform once again and attached to the Queen’s personal guard. Holcomb was back in the diplomatic corps with Donnelly and Patel working as interpreters. Wolcott carried a badge for the Yard with HG as his consultant.

Even Chataranga who rarely was assigned a case was working with the staff at the Palace as one of the many head Butlers overseeing the multitude of official events.  In fact, the only Agents spared were Kipling and Lewis who were somewhere in Peru looking for an Incan doomsday artifact.

“I’m not sure about that tally,” HG straightened her waistcoat. “McShane managed to capture an artifact this morning and Patel sussed out an imposter in the Prussian delegation.”

“Bollocks,” Wolcott frowned.

The pair weaved their way through the crowds gathered at Trafalgar Square in preparation for the Queen’s procession through the streets to St Paul’s Cathedral.  

Helena side stepped a rambunctious child, “I cannot tell you how thrilled I will be when this event is over.”

“Only the State dinner tonight,” Wolcott replied. “Oh and the open air ceremony.”

“What could possibly go wrong there?” Helena asked sarcastically.

 

Several hours and another small retrieval later Helena found herself amidst the crowd assembled in St. Paul’s square.  She had made contact with McShane, Holcomb and Patel as she kept her eyes on the masses assembled.  Wolcott had separated from her as soon as they reached the area to ensure they would secure more miscreants than the other Agents and win the wager.

HG decided not to count the drunken reveler and his friend but did count the fake Trombonist hiding some sort of dart contraption in his instrument. Time was of the essence and she had no idea where the other teams stood.

After circling the grounds for the third time, HG found her disheveled partner under a tree.

“Are you all right?”

“Just give me a minute,” he nodded toward the prone form of a giant man some ten meters away. “I had to subdue that brute. Do you think I could receive two points for him?”

Helena assessed the massive man. “Indeed.”

 

Two days and many incidents later, Helena found herself in the office of the Warehouse with several of her fellow Agents in front of a scowling Barnabas McGivens to discuss the events of the past week.  It seemed that the incident with the pudding during the State dinner had created the most disruption.  Helena was glad she and Wolcott had been dealing with the rogue foliage situation and managed to avoid the kitchen disaster.

 Chataranga had admitted (in the heat of the moment) that he had never been so pressed in his skills as an Agent.  And that he hoped to never have to deal directly with Victoria again.

“The Queen sends her thanks,” McGivens scanned the page he held. “Her Majesty realizes the many potential threats that you were able to neutralize during the Diamond Jubilee. She is forever grateful for the work of the Agents of Warehouse 12.”

Helena made eye contact with Wolly. Almost in the clear. They had yet to compare notes with their fellow Agents but she was quite confident that they had won the bet.  Helena already had plans for the next three weekends free of inventory duty and what she would buy Christina with her share of the winnings.

“However,” the Caretaker frowned, “that does not excuse the reckless behaviors displayed over the past week.”

The room erupted in protests from the Agents assembled. Even the recently returned Kipling and Lewis stood in solidarity.

The Caretaker held up a hand and the room quieted.

“The Regents and myself understand the unique circumstances presented so there will be no other actions other than a warning to adhere to the rules that govern the Warehouse.” McGivens paused and smirked. “And for the record I wish to thank Agents Wells and Wolcott for the many a round at the Old Bell my winnings will purchase.”

Groans mixed with cheers filled the room.


	86. What good is sitting alone in your room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> High times in the Weimar Republic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been listening to a lot of Broadway lately so here's my first offering for AU week over on Tumblr.

Myka had dropped off her bags at the boarding house, reminding herself to thank Pete for the tip. The proprietor, Fraulein Fredric, had agreed to only charge her half of the normal rate thanks to her friendship with Mr. Lattimer.  And she had already secured work giving English lessons to help pay her rent. More importantly, the tutoring job gave her time to work on her novel. 

It was 1931 and Myka had heard that no place was more accepting than Berlin (though she had her concerns over the growing power of Hitler’s Nazi party). But her novel would be complete within the next year, long before a fringe group became a major threat.

After a couple of days to get adjusted to a new city, Myka was restless. Fraulein Fredric had recommended the Kit Kat Club as a place to explore.  The music was lively, the drinks were strong and the crowd was friendly.  Myka had observed a dark haired woman one slip out late the other evening who, if she had to guess given the risqué outfit hidden under a dark trench coat, worked at the club.

A Saturday night one week later, Myka found herself with a seat in the back of the small Kit Kat Club. Her neighbor from across the hall, Mr. Jinks, had agreed to accompany her for the evening.  It seemed his dear friend was the regular Emcee of the club.

From the opening cords of the first number, Myka was hooked.  The androgynous host was captivating and quite talented at managing the crowd.  She found it easy to forget the outside world, pulled into the dazzling spectacle of the Cabaret. Nothing in Colorado Springs even came close.

“It’s quite the show,” Stephen whispered after the ventriloquist act finished. 

“It is,” Myka smiled. “I love it.”

“Well you’re in for a treat then.”

After an amusing introduction the dark haired woman-Helena Wells- strolled on to the stage and simply owned it. Myka felt her breath catch as the woman slinked across the stage, singing about making the most of life.  It was a philosophy that Myka had followed since saying goodbye to her parents’ years ago and by the way Miss Wells was singing, she knew the other woman felt the same way.

 

Two days later Myka was reading The Sleeper Awakes in the small library of the boarding house. There was just something about the works of HG Wells that she had loved for years.   

“You were at the club the other night,” a cool British voice broke the silence.

Myka jumped just a bit as she looked up from her book.   Helena Wells leaned casually against the door frame.

“I was,” Myka blushed just a bit. “You were fantastic.”

“Thank you,” Helena nodded.  “I suppose you know who I am…”she trailed off.

“Myka Bering,” she closed the book and stood, offering her hand in friendship.

Brown eyes seemed to darken when their hands touched.  Myka felt her heart speed up.

“Hmm,” the singer took some time before releasing Myka’s hand.  She nodded to the closed book in Myka’s other hand. “Are you a Wells fan?”

“Oh yes,” Myka smiled. “This book and The Time Machine are my favorites.”

“Indeed.”

“You never know what the future holds.” Myka grinned and stepped closer.

Helena smirked. “I might have a bit of an idea.”


	87. Your hand feels so grand in mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why to they think up stories that link up my name with yours?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a second offering for AU week over on Tumblr. I didn't expect musicals to be a theme for a chunk of updates but hey, it's working for me so I can't complain. Thanks again for reading and please let me know what you think.

Maybe it was when three hours into the tear down from The Tales of Hoffman.  HG came over to where Myka and Claudia were rolling up the Venice backdrop. The junior majoring in Stage Management was the AI in charge of this show and she wanted to make sure the ancient set (first used in 1962) made it back to the Warehouse unharmed.

“I’m impressed,” HG had smiled as Myka finished tying down the drop. “I’d have thought you’d been part of the crew for years, not only a mere few weeks.”

“Not bad for an English major huh,” Myka joked.

A bellow from their boss Artie shouting in his usual pronoun filled gibberish ended the conversation quickly.

 

 

Maybe it was the next morning when Myka met Claudia and Pete for breakfast before the second day of breakdown and set up.  She’d heard that rehearsal weeks were brutal. And knowing there were five more long days ahead  of her had Myka  second guessing her choice of this part time college job.

“It gets easier,” Pete yawned as he picked her up that morning at 6am.  “Yeah these turn around weekends are rough, but hey hey hey they only happen three times a semester.”

As Myka  stumbled into the diner behind Pete she made eye contact with HG sitting next to Steve and another of the AI’s, Amanda.

Of course Pete took the empty seat at the head of the table forcing the sophomore  to sit next to HG.

“Hello again,” she smiled.

“Hey,” Myka mumbled.  “Some night huh.”

“One of the smoothest we’ve seen in a while,” HG flipped open the menu. “Thanks to some brilliant new additions to the crew.”

 

 

With four AI’s in charge of different aspects of the behind the scenes management, the stage crew was split into working team of various sizes for the duration of each show.   There were three shows per semester, six for the year and two in the summer. Everyone on the stage crew got to work in all aspects of the behind the scenes world to keep things interesting.

HG had acted as overall stage manager for Tales of Hoffman so she was assigned to rafters for the next show, Oklahoma.

Myka was surprised to find herself part of HG’s group who spent their time two stories up and cloaked in darkness.  The crew was small since the musical didn’t call for many drop changes.

But somehow Myka was paired with HG for every single change.

 

Maybe it was the fact that the singers playing Curley and Laurey couldn’t quite hit their marks. Then the director wanted the entire scene relit. And there was a scene change right after that found Myka in orbit around HG for hours on a Tuesday night.

“If someone wanted this song to haunt my dreams, they got what they wanted,” Myka grumbled as they reset the start of that part of Act 1 yet again.

HG laughed. Myka smiled.

“Not a fan of musicals?” HG asked softly as the scene began again.

“I’m more of a modern musical kind of girl,” Myka sat down, followed by HG. “Rent is probably as far back as I’d go.”

“Oh Myka,” HG shook her head. “This is a classic. Did you know that this is one of the first musicals to have a true story with the show itself, including dance numbers?  Rent, which is an excellent show, wouldn’t exist without Oklahoma.”

Myka was captivated as HG went on to explain the musicals of Rodgers and Hammerstein and the impact they had on the genre.  The meaning of the words began to fade as Myka focused in on the woman before her.

HG turned from watching the stage as she spoke to look at Myka, quickly loosing track of what she was saying.

They simply stared at each other, unable to look away.

Artie’s voice booming through the headset around HG’s neck broke the moment.

 

Maybe it was because the dress rehearsal had been a success.  And that Artie had finally called Myka by her name instead of Her or even Sally (which he called the girls he liked on the crew).  Or that they had a short night, getting off around 10 instead of midnight on a Friday.

Pete had a date with Amanda so Myka was without a ride. HG offered to take her back to the dorm and on the way invited her over to her apartment to watch some of the classics they’d talked about on Tuesday.   So at 2am after watching the 1951 version of Show Boat Myka found herself leaning towards HG.

“And what will people say,” Myka asked.

“People will say we’re in love,” HG closed the distance between their lips.


	88. Here’s to the ladies who lunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Look into their eyes, And you'll see what they know. A toast to that invincible bunch, the dinosaurs surviving the crunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another AU week update still inspired by music once found on Broadway. I've always been a Sondheim fan and have grown to appreciate his works more and more over the years. Here's a bit inspired by a memorable Patti Lupone performance of a song from Company.

Helena sat in the back corner of the restaurant with Leena and Claudia.  They were here for their weekly lunch date, enjoying some time away from absent husbands and demanding children.

Well, to be honest, Helena was newly without a husband and Christina was a lovely child. So she was there for the conversation and observation.

She’d met Leena and Claudia ages ago when she and her former husband moved to New York from London. They all lived in the same Upper West Side building at the time and during one of the many mixers the building offered the women had taken her under her wing. 

Now her husband had moved to Philadelphia with his new firm and Helena had begun contract work for her old boss who now lived in the city.  Between her alimony and side work she continued to live much the same life she had before.

But she was restless and to be honest, bored.

She kept an ear on the conversation but let her eyes drift to the others enjoying a similar style of lunch, complete with a Martini, or Vodka Stinger, or Whiskey Neat. 

Helena watched a group of nearly identical blonde women in variations of the same caftans who looked to be planning some sort of party or brunch.  She had been that woman once, concerned with her appearance and always making sure she had the right accessory.

Her eyes drifted to a pair of younger woman seated at the bar, satchels at their feet and a few scattered papers before them.  They looked to be clerks or perhaps secretaries, working and studying their way to the top. She smiled, thinking of her younger days spent at Cambridge.

The topic of the Vietnam War pulled Helena from her musings for a moment but after an exciting few moments the conversation returned to more banal topics.

A new group of women were seated behind their table. Three women enjoying a visit to the city, taking the train in from Brooklyn or Queens, escaping their suburban lives. Trying to stay in touch with their younger, more vibrant selves. 

Someone probably had this week’s copy of Life in their purse. Helena smirked at the thought.

Her smiled faded as she realized just what she was doing.  She had grown stagnant in her life, maybe even a bit depressed and had put herself on the sidelines.  Reviewing and judging those around her for the empty amusement of a moment or two.  Degrading others had never made her feel better.

Helena tuned back into the conversation. Leena was saying Sondheim was about to open a new musical on Broadway and that they should go see it.  She had enjoyed A Funny Thing That Happened on the Way to the Forum but his last two musicals hadn’t been quite as good.

That’s when she spotted the other woman who was subtly observing her.  She was sitting at a table diagonally across from Helena’s group, with a square shouldered man and an older elegant looking black woman. She had the look of a woman used to corporate power, given her business suit and controlled appearance.

But there was something about the eyes as they appraised her that was different.

This woman didn’t fit into any of Helena’s predetermined categories.

Their eyes met.  The woman smiled and Helena nodded slowly. 

Oh yes, there was definitely something unique about this woman.

“If you excuse me,” Helena stood smoothly and made her way to the Ladies room.

 

As she was leaving the restroom she bumped into the woman from across the restaurant.

“So,” the taller woman paused, “what do you think of the lunch crowd today?”

“Well I would say it was the usual mix of hope and quite desperation.”

“But,” she smirked.

“Today’s there’s an unexpected element to the ladies who lunch.”

The other woman blushed slightly.

Helena smiled, feeling invigorated for the first time in many years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just updated the soundtrack over at http://8tracks.com/mfangeleeta/the-vodka-made-me-do-it


	89. They come a runnin’ just to get a look, just to feel, to touch her long black hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey I still think that Skate Town USA is a classic,” Pete protested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update number four for AU week over on Tumblr. Not so much Broadway tonight but a slightly cracky 80s bad movie inspired fic involving roller skating. Because that was a genre at one point in movie making. (And I don't know Starlight Express well enough to pull it off). So have some extra cray tonight and thanks for reading. 
> 
> And as always please let me know what you think.

“I’m now seeing why Artie insisted we watched all those roller skating movies,” Claudia looked over at Pete and Myka.

“Hey I still think that Skate Town USA is a classic,” Pete protested.

Myka resisted the urge to punch her partner.  When Steve and HG failed to report back from their retrieval of the original first press of the soundtrack album to Xanadu she knew there was a problem.  The album had been found in a small record store in Des Moines and should have been a simple snag.

But it wasn’t since the trio was now standing in front of Bob’s Skate Land. The rink had been about to close its doors until business suddenly began to boom. Myka knew something had gone wrong.

No one roller skated anymore Artie explained and Myka had agreed.

Until now.

 

“You were right,” Claude spoke into the Farnsworth, pausing to watch a pair of teen agers dressed in bell bottoms walk by, “definitely an artifact.”

“What exactly does this thing do?” Pete asked, slipping in behind Claudia.

“Other than force you to listen to the last days of disco?” Artie quipped. “As long as the track Suspended in Time plays every three hours the area will continue to exist. I’m guessing this was Bob’s most profitable time.”

“Why every three,” Pete looked at Myka.

“Because I said so,” Artie barked, “it’s important that you don’t touch anything from that prior time period. I think that’s how HG and Steve got stuck in time.”

“And small town Iowa can’t have much going for it on a Saturday night so why not check out retro night at the roller rink?” Pete filled in the blank.

“I bet we find many of the missing people reported in the past few days inside,” Myka nodded.

“Remember, don’t touch anything. I don’t roller skate anymore so don’t make me come rescue you three.” Artie cut the transmission.

“I bet that would be something to see,” Claudia smirked at Pete and Myka.

 

The trio of Agents followed a woman sporting an epic fro into the rink.  The music was blasting and the place was packed.  Pete pointed towards the snack area, Claudia headed towards the DJ booth and Myka headed towards the rink itself. 

Myka jerked her hands back. She had almost touched the small wall that separated the rink and the rest area. She quickly snapped on a pair of gloves, just in case. The building probably wasn’t the artifact but you could never be too careful.

She hated disco, especially the transitional disco of the late 70s/early 80s. And the only rink she ever skated on was one made of ice.

After a fruitless search for the missing Agents, Myka headed to the snack area to see if Pete had better luck.

 

“Oh my God,” Myka’s eyes widened when she spotted Pete.

Her partner had obviously touched (more likely eaten) something since she didn’t realize that corduroy pants came in that shade.

Or quite that tight.

Not to mention the unflattering half shag that his hair and devolved to.

“Pete,” Myka hissed and pulled him away from the girls he was talking to. “What did you touch?”

“Hey Mykes,” he grinned.   “Tonight is so awesome! Where are your skates?”

Before she could reply, Pete’s new friends rushed over squealing about the song that was playing.

“Gotta go,” Pete called as he rolled towards the floor.

 

“Myka,” Claudia bounded over from the DJ area. “This is so awesome. Creepy fashion wise but awesome.”

Myka smiled. Claudia was wearing gloves and appeared unaffected.

“Did you see Pete?”

“Oh yeah,” the red head smirked. “I grabbed a couple of pics with my phone for black mail later.”

“Any sign of Steve or Helena?”

“Not yet, but I’ve got eyes on the artifact.  The DJ has it in his record crate.  I’m working my way up to the booth. “

“Good job.  I’ll keep looking for the others.”

 

Myka had circled the rink three times, hung out in the snack area and even loitered by the bathrooms to no avail. Steve and HG were well hidden in the good sized crowd and dim lighting.  She had watched about a dozen people wander in and be transformed thanks to the artifact and wondered just how long they had actually been trapped there.  Her phone and watch had stopped as soon as they walked in.

 

She passed by the DJ booth again, noticing that Claudia had finally become part of the small entourage that crowded into the booth itself.

“Finally,” she said as she made her way around the rink again.

And as if she was part of one of those awful skating movies…

Do Ya started blasting from the speakers.  (A song she knew well thanks to Sunday afternoons spent in the bookstore with her ELO fan father)

The crowd parted (as if in slow motion) and there was Helena.

She was wearing the tightest and shortest cut off jean shorts Myka’d ever seen matched with a bright yellow tight tee with the faded words of Mellow Yellow across her chest.  Myka swallowed hard.

The older woman laughed at something one of the many men around her said and exposed her long next, causing her hair to cascade gently across her shoulders.

Helena turned suddenly and her face lit up.

“Myka!” she shouted and time suddenly sped up.

The taller agent caught the Victorian who skated into her.

“I’m so glad you could make it,” she smiled. “I’ve missed you.”

“Helena,” Myka felt relief at the sight of her partner. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine darling,” Helena smiled. “Better than fine now that you’re here.” She glanced down, “but where are your skates?”

“I’m not skating tonight. You’ve been affected by an artifact.”

“Nonsense,” Helena frowned.  “The only thing that is affecting me is you.”

Helena leaned up as Myka leaned down.  As their lips met Myka felt the pull of reality slipping away.

 

“It was hot,” Pete said for the 10th time as they all headed to their cars.

“Will you stop,” Myka rolled her eyes as Helena squeezed her hand.

“Even I thought it was hot,” Steve agreed and Claudia nodded.

“Seriously I felt like I was watching one of those 80s movies,” Claudia chimed in.

As Myka and Helena had made out,  much to the entertainment of the Skate Land crowd, Claudia had managed to snag and bag the artifact. Everyone had reverted back to their 21st century selves.

And Myka and HG continued to make out.  Until the applause broke them apart.

“Hey if I had a hot girlfriend I’d be all about the PDA,” Pete accepted the punch he knew was coming.

“Let’s just get back to the hotel,” Myka released HG’s hand as she headed to the car she was sharing with Pete and Claudia.

 

Claudia riding in the back seat glanced down at her phone and smiled.

_Of course,_ she replied to HG’s text _, it’s already up on Instagram and I can send you a copy. I love that new video feature._


	90. Traffic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A couple of hours later they were finally moving at a decent speed towards Atlanta. Claudia was dozing in the passenger’s seat and Myka felt another wave hit as she thought about the last time she’d driven home. For a wedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A fifth and (most likely) final update for AU week over on tumblr. I've spent a lot of time over the last couple of days watching cars not move on the interstate. Please let me know what you think of this one. It's not quite like my normal stuff (at least I don't think so).

“The roads going to be closed for the next few hours while they clean up the spill,” Claudia looked up from her phone. “Looks like we’re going to be here for a while.”

Myka turned off the engine and rolled down the window, resting her elbow on the ledge and leaned back in her seat. Luckily they hadn’t hit the full of summer yet and it would only get into the high 80s today.

“I’ll call and let them know we’re going to be late getting in,” Claudia looked over at her cousin. “Are you going to be okay?”

“As well as I can be,” Myka sighed.  She had swung by Tallahassee to pick up her cousin as they headed back to Atlanta for the funeral.  Her best friend and next door neighbor growing up had married a lovely woman named Leena six years ago.  It had been a beautiful wedding with Myka serving as Pete’s best man and her cousin Claudia one of Leena’s bridesmaids.

“Hey Mrs. Lattimer,” Claudia spoke softly, “its Claudia. And Myka…”

The feelings came in waves. Had been for the last few days since she found out that Pete and Leena had been in a horrible car accident on 285. The couple  had been on their way back home when their car had been struck by a drunk driver.  Leena had been killed instantly. Pete had survived and had gotten out of the hospital last night.

Just in time for his wife’s funeral.

She sat up and opened the door, tuning out the conversation with Pete’s mom. 

Myka walked few feet away from the car and looked down the interstate.  Cars stopped on her side of the road for miles both directions. Nothing coming from the opposite side since the road remained blocked.  A few people stood outside their vehicles. Others sat along the side of the road on the grass.

Stagnation as far as the eye could see.

She heard the car door open and close.

“I’m gonna stretch my legs for a bit,” Claudia, uneasy when the usually calm Myka showed signs of breaking, “maybe see if there’s anything at that exit we passed.”

“Okay,” Myka nodded not looking. “Be careful okay? You have your phone?”

“Fully charged,” she held the device up. “Want anything if I find a gas station?”

“I’m good.”

 

Myka made her way to the side of the road. She didn’t want to wander far with the car unlocked and Claudia off on her adventure, but the pavement was hot and unforgiving.  She managed to find a little shade tree that offered a view of the road from both directions and a decent respite from the heat.

“Coming or going?” a woman’s voice broke the silence.

Myka jerked around, hand on her chest.

“Did I startle you? I’m sorry.” the woman offered.  She had been leaning on the other side of the tree and Myka, lost in her head, hadn’t seen her.

“It’s okay,” Myka rasped, turning just a bit to look at the stranger.  She looked to be about the same age as Myka but something about her felt older. Maybe it was the eyes. Something.

“So are you coming,” the woman pointed at the road,” or going?”

“Going, I guess,” Myka offered. “Home to Atlanta.”

“As am I,” she smiled. “Traveling to Atlanta that is. I missed my connecting flight in Orlando and was forced to drive.  Or attempt to.”

“Same here,” Myka felt herself relaxing a bit. “The driving part. I had to pick up my cousin first. Otherwise I’d flown.  Claudia, she doesn’t like to drive long distances by herself.”

“Sometimes a long drive is necessary, a good way to clear one’s head.” The woman smiled and offered her hand. “Helena.”

“Myka.” They shook. “So you’re traveling for work?”

“Indeed.  I’m a logistics consultant. A company has hired me to take a look at their supply chain and help make it more efficient. Quite boring stuff for most, but I do enjoy the travel.  And the pay,” she winked.  “Atlanta is one of my favorite cities.”

“It has its moments,” Myka looked down, feeling another wave cresting.

“But this isn’t a happy one?”

“It isn’t.”

Myka felt herself shut down for a moment, unable to focus on more than the ground or the parked cars on the interstate.  Death, the death of a dear loved one, managed to take her world and tilt it just a bit to the right. She’d lost others, some she’d cared for quite a bit, but this. There was something about this that was just…

“When I lost my daughter some years ago,” Helena spoke softly. “I was in Chicago working.  It was her father’s month to have her for visitation and they had been spending time with his parents Maine.  Christina, she loved the water,” Helena sighed. 

“When he called to tell me what had happened there were no flights that left soon enough, so quite foolishly I rented a car and proceeded to drive there.”

“How far did you make it?” Myka choked.

“Cleveland surprisingly.” She sighed. “I don’t remember most of the drive but I do remember breaking down so fiercely that I almost caused an accident on an interstate much like this one.  I booked a room at a hotel, slept a couple of hours and got on a flight.”

“Three months later I found myself in a similar situation to the one I that brought me here today.  I would have to rent a car and drive from Dallas to Tulsa for a meeting.  And Dallas traffic is ghastly,” Helena shuttered, “so I found myself trapped in rush hour traffic, creeping along a road that forever seemed to be under construction, desperate to get out of the city in a timely manner.  And I broke down again, thinking of the last time I had been forced to drive in such traffic.”

“What did you do?” Myka asked.

“Well at that moment a monstrosity of a truck tried to cut me off,” Helena began to chuckle, “so I honked my horn and shot him the finger.”

Myka burst into laughter.

The sounds of engines starting pulled the woman out of the moment.  People were heading to their cars.  She looked down the road and could see Claudia’s bright red and blue hair heading back her direction.

“Looks like things are clearing up,” Myka stood.

“It appears so,” Helena smiled.  “Well good luck to you Myka.”

“And to you Helena. And thanks.  It helped.”

“You’re very welcome.”

 

“Who’s that?” Claudia asked as she approached.  They watched as Helena slipped into a silver sedan a few cars ahead of theirs.

“A friend,” Myka smiled.  “Get the car cooling, would ya?”

“Sure,” Claudia accepted the keys.

 

 

Helena rolled down her window.

“In case you ever find yourself in New Orleans,” Myka handed Helena her business car.  “My cell phone is on the back.”

“I will be sure to look you up.” Helena smiled.

 

A couple of hours later they were finally moving at a decent speed towards Atlanta.  Claudia was dozing in the passenger’s seat and Myka felt another wave hit as she thought about the last time she’d driven home. For a wedding.


	91. Rondo-Finale-Allegro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And what if I’ve lost hope?”  
> “Then make sure your death is a good one.”  
> You knew the look on your face must have show the horror you felt. Mac chuckled.  
> “Or you find a reason to have some. Whichever’s easier.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A rare first person narrative in a dystopian future AU aka my favorite genre. A heavy dose of Mahler's 5th Symphony made this possible. As always, please let me know what you think and thank you so much for reading.
> 
> Don't forget to check out the playlist at http://8tracks.com/mfangeleeta/the-vodka-made-me-do-it

_“The world needs heroes, especially now when they’ve lost hope.”_

_“And what if I’ve lost hope?”_

_“Then make sure your death is a good one.”_

 

Pete tapped on your helmet, Mahler and Mac’s words swirling in your ears.  Your roomie during basic had once been a musician and got you hooked on the composer. The German had been your good luck charm these countless years.

“Yeah,” you lifted the face plate, not bothering to turn down the volume.

“We’re about to drop. Just thought you should know,” he studied your face for a moment. “You looked a little lost in there. Number Eight?”

“Two,” you roll your eyes and pull down the faceplate again.

 

_“And what if I’m not ready to die just yet?”_

_“Then you better find a reason to live.  Because the black dog will come nipping at your heals soon enough.”_

 

“You ready for this one Time Traveler?” Donovan, the youngest member of your squad asked.  The brother of one of your good friends had given you that nickname when he’d seen you tinkering with an old transmitter while listening to Mozart.   He’d laughed and said no one bothered with that stuff anymore. You’d told him to fuck off and get off your lawn with a grin on your face.

The nickname had stuck.

“Try not to get that faceplate up if you barf this time okay?” you snark back.

“That was one time, eight years ago.”

“And we’ll never forget it,” Pete had your back as always. Will nodded in agreement.

“Fuck you all.”

“Portal’s ready,” the CO came into the hanger, “if you ladies are done with your sewing circle we’ve got work to do.”

“Aye Cap,” voices shouted in unison.

_“So what keeps you going then? Since we’re pretty much a lost cause.”_

_You wish you had the words to describe the look on his face, right before he answered you._

You’d lost track of the number of jumps when it hit triple digits. The human body wasn’t supposed to fly, they said. Well happened a long time ago. Wasn't meant to go into space. Well, another long time ago.  Leave the solar system, colonize other worlds, live past 200, all of that jazz.

And it certainly couldn’t withstand getting pulled through holes in the fabric of existence as a means of quick travel (or to other dimensions or something) but here you and your mates were.  Another symphony began. You made it a low hum so you could hear orders and the sound of battle. 

It was just loud enough to drown out the groans of the dying.

You stayed with your team, taking out the enemy as quickly as you could, not really focused on where you were.  You’d stopped caring about where when you’d stopped counting jumps. Only paying just enough attention to the mission briefings to know what was expected. They told you were good at what you did, one of the best, should run your own squad.

You did that once upon a time.

It didn’t work out so well.

 

_Just make sure. Make sure when you know you don’t hang on. Zombies in suits bring down the entire squad. I’ve seen it happen. One day they just freeze up in battle and three good people die trying to save them._

_I won’t._

“Shit, the CO bit it,” Donovan’s wide eyes met your own. He, Pete, Will and the handful of others who were left had met up in the basement of a blown out structure.

“That means you’re in charge Traveler."

You swallowed. “Okay,” you hoped your voice didn’t shake. “Okay. Here’s what we need to do.”

 

_In all the years you’d only ever called your friend Mac or Mac the Knife after some old Earth song. So to hear him referred to as Chataranga had been disconcerting. You already knew he’d been a hero many times over, your friend, your mentor. All those other things they’d said at his funeral (back when they still took the time to have those things)._

_You tried to think of that man, the one they talked about. Not the one you’d seen in battle that day._

 

“Holy shit,” Pete whispered, then shouted. “Holy shit!” He clapped his hands together and began to dance around.

“Great job Traveler,” you felt Donovan’s hand slap your back.  “You killed the Hive!”

“That’s the gun you made, isn’t it?” Will asked. “The one you call GRPLR?”

As you watched at the remnants of the hub that controlled the enemy forces on this planet lighting up the sky, you could barely believe it yourself. Dumb luck you supposed.

You looked down at the cobbled together weapon, made from odd bits of old tech and scraps from the various worlds you’d seen, you began to wonder at the endless possibilities.

Troops from other squads began to gather around you and your team as they told the tale of their trip into the hub and how corporal Wells had followed a brilliant plan (of her own making) into the heart of darkness.

And produced the first true victory in countless years.

 

“Is that Five?”

“Pardon me?”

“Is that Mahler’s Fifth? The finale,” the woman asked.  She was holding her partially charred helmet at her hip. Long brown curly hair draped over the top of her suit. “That you’re listen to?”

In the chaos of the last twenty minutes you didn’t even realize you turned up the volume of the Mahler symphony that had been playing. Your helmet was off but it didn’t matter. In fact, it only made things easier to hear.

“It is,” you smiled, looking up at the taller woman.

“My favorite,” she smiled back, green eyes dancing. “So I hear some guy named Wells took down the Hive inside that hub.”

“I’ve been told the same thing. Except that Wells is a woman.”

“ Even better.” She sighed. “Do you think that this might change things?” her gaze returned to yours. “Because I’d really like to have a bit of hope back in the world.”

“Me too.”

“Corporal Myka Bering,” she offered her hand and returned your firm shake in kind.

“Corporal Helena Wells.”

 

_“The world needs heroes, especially now when they’ve lost hope.”_

_“And what if I’ve lost hope?”_

_“Then make sure your death is a good one.”_

_You knew the look on your face must have show the horror you felt. Mac chuckled._

_“Or you find a reason to have some. Whichever’s easier.”_

_“And what if I’m not ready to die just yet?”_

_“Then you better find a reason to live.”_


	92. I don’t even think to make corrections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know how this things work. There’s only you, me, Kip and DM left from the squad. He sighed. We’re a ghost unit. We don’t get rebuilt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a follow up to the previous chapter. Thanks for reading!

_How? How is this even possible?  Your eyes look up in shock at the orders before you._

_You know how this things work. There’s only you, me, Kip and DM left from the squad. He sighed. We’re a ghost unit. We don’t get rebuilt._

You’d led what was left of your squad, with a few additions like Corporal Bering through three more successful hub attacks on that planet. They had all kinds of bizarre nicknames and stories about you a month later when the Field Marshal deemed it safe to visit the burned out world and see you for himself.

Fifty years ago Field Marshal Nielson had been hell in a suit and a legend among the troops. Then a horseshoe mine had blown of his left leg and hand.

And that was that.

But he was smart and he knew talent when he saw it. That’s what she told you. Bering had studied every great solider, every great commander over the past 100 years or so (it seemed).  She was a planner. A thinker. The one who looked before you leapt.

And the person who helped make that meeting with Nielson a success.

 

_So the new unit is okay?_

_It’s fine._

_You and Kip had never been the best of pals, but he was a familiar face on this space station._

_I hear you’ve got your own squad now._

_Crazy right?_

_He studied you in that way you hated, before he replied._

 

They pulled you from the field to go back and show the eggheads how exactly you’d come up with the GRPLR and a few other items you and your mates used.  You fought the move tooth and nail because the squad would press forward on the western front. Hopping to another world while you headed home.

You never wanted to be a hero. All you wanted was to fight and maybe die. Because until that day you’d given up hope.

But then you won.

And Myka Bering came over talking about Mahler.

They’d thrown you a party the night before you left. Pete and Donovan had scratched up some homemade liquor and Will had found some new tapes to play in his boom box. You drank and laughed and told bullshit stories for hours until it was just you and Myka.

Then she leaned over and kissed you.

 

_You’d forgotten how beautiful a sunset could be. You guessed it was going on a year since you’d had a moment to sit and watch one._

_And the sunsets on T-121 were spectacular. Almost as beautiful as the ones you remembered from your childhood._

_The smoke from the burning buildings and vehicles caused the light’s rays to sparkle in a way that you couldn’t describe._

_For a moment you could forget where you were and what had happened. What Charles had said when you made it back to HQ with only half of your unit intact._

 

Working with R&D wasn’t so bad once you adjusted to three meals (plus snacks) a day and an actual bed to sleep in. That and the fact that the lab boys couldn’t keep up with your odd hours made working there fun. In its own way.  This world, the current home base, wasn’t your planet of origin but it was enough.

At night you’d slip into the reports room and search the latest news from the war, praying to the Gods that KIA or MIA would never be next to the name of Bering.

But there were too many KIA’s next to people you knew. People you cared about.  One of the three kids of the Donovan clan.  McShane from the unit you commanded, Kipling from the unit you’d always called home.

You began to press for your return to the front. The development phase was almost complete and they didn’t need you testing. 

Hell you had never really tested the damn thing in combat before that night nearly nine months ago.

And ghost units didn’t get rebuilt.

 

_Mac looked older. Much older than his actual years. It had been awhile since you’d seen each other._

_So of course it made sense that the only time you had to catch up was right before battle._

_You look good._

_You look like shit._

_Thanks, he gave you a tired smile._

_This looks to be a big one. How’s your unit? You asked._

_Not the same. Yours?_

_I think you know._

_He pulled you into a tight hug right before the siren called you into position. You were being air dropped onto this planet. Something about the atmosphere making a portal jump to risky._

_When he let go you could tell it was time._

 

Because of your status (and that Field Marshal Nielson owed you a couple of favors) you found yourself stepping off a transport on plant JTR on the front. You’d been thinking a lot about the things you’d fucked up in your life.  The Command you once had. The relationship with your now deceased parents. Your brother who you loved and hated simultaneously.

You thought of Mac. Especially that last drop and how you should have told him. Thanked him. Hugged him back. Something. Something so he knew just how much he’d meant to you.

But you never thought to make corrections in the moment. Only when it was too late.

So as soon as you found your squad you hugged Pete and Will.  You pulled Josh aside and consoled him about his sister.  You greeted the noobs appropriately.

And you pulled the newly promoted Lieutenant Bering into a passionate kiss. 

_That unit is done Wells. We’re about to plug holes with what’s left._

_The core is still there Field Marshal. They are the team that beat the hub, killed the hive. You don’t bust them up._

_These are the rules. We don’t remake ghost units._

_Well then it’s time for those rules to be changed._


	93. And if somebody woulda told me a month ago.  Fronting though: yo, I wouldn’t wanna know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've moved on. (Or have you.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> S5 ramble set in around and around the series finale timeline. (Be warned it's Bering and it's Wells but not like most people want to see them.)

 “Are you ready?” Giselle called from the bedroom.

“Almost.” You checked yourself over again in the bathroom mirror.

You didn’t need to be in the room to know the petulant look that crossed her face. You’d been dating for just over 16 months.  Back to the bustle of the city after the failure of Boone, though you still kept in touch with Adelaide.

There was no recovery from a visit by the Warehouse. Or by her.

“I’m going to make myself a drink,” you heard the bedroom door open and close.

So you fled. Not far, settling in Chicago a city at times familiar and foreign.  You’d contacted Mrs. Fredric to offer your skills as a consultant from time to time.

And had spoken with the doctor Irene had recommended.

 

 

“You look lovely,” she smiled when you entered the living room.  “I love you in a vest.”

You embraced and you enjoyed the rush her touch brought.

“Let’s go,” you already were thinking about what you hope happened after the party.

 

You admired the smile that graced her lips as your hand rested on her thigh, content to relax in the passenger’s seat she sped through the city.  You had a car, parked in the garage of your South Side building, but preferred the El to take you to and from work.  She lived in Old Town yet insisted on driving everywhere and had told you many times it was because of her Los Angeles upbringing.

You wondered just how hard it was to adapt to your surroundings.

(But then again, who are you to judge.)

She had begun to ask you about your lease and indicated she’d like you to move closer. Perhaps even share her townhome in the very near future.

You could never tell her you lived so close to Jackson Park because of another lifetime in a bygone era.

(And that the specter of green eyes kept you from taking that step again.)

 

A social gathering was a social gathering. And many of the same maneuvers you'd employed in the 1890s worked well in the 2010s.  There were a fair number of attendees, met at previous events, and you passed the time discussing hors d’oeuvres and the quality of bartenders employed. She was radiant, charming her boss and his supervisor with ease. 

This relationship was... It was a struggle at times. You did not see eye to eye (and your past would always be a weight around your neck) but she was a joy in many ways.  Unlike Nate, she could read your moods and know when to allow you your moments of melancholy, holding you close and not saying a word.

But then she would press. About moving into the same home. About your inability to share certain things about your past. What had driven you from Wisconsin.  These were topics that you were never going to discuss with anyone.

(Except the doctor Irene had recommended.)

 

All in all it had been a successful evening. You had found yourself enjoying the event and the ‘after party’ at a nearby bar. But it was nearly 2am and she had to work the next day. So you bid her goodnight after a heated exchange in her car and on your doorstep. You honestly wished, as her hands clutched at your waist, that she could come inside.  For a rare moment your head and your heart were in agreement.

But it wasn't meant to be.

So you found yourself restless at 3:08am with a laptop in your lap and a glass of wine in your hand reviewing your email.  Work correspondence gave way to personal, then to a review of your favorite YouTube channels (thanks to Claudia).

But at 4:23 your email chimed. Myka had written you about a case in nearby Naperville and asking you about meeting up.  She had something important that she needed to tell you. (But you already knew, thanks to Claudia, about her budding relationship with Pete.)

 

She seemed happy. You seemed happy. There would be no harm in two old friends meeting up.


	94. And your friends won’t come, so show me where you fit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're on your own in a world you've grown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An AU in the world of The Leftovers (S1), set early season in season 5 of Warehouse 13. Angst for all characters ahead. 
> 
> (For those of you who aren't familiar with that show or book, it's basically what happens after 2% of the world's population disappears suddenly one day. This story is based on the TV show. It's fantastic and the music is choices have blown me away.)

_October 14_

_“Oh come on,” Steve shook his head. “He was not checking me out.”_

_“Dude,” Claudia took a sip of her coffee, dodging a young professional on the busy Manhattan street. “I totally saw him give you the slow up and down when you were looking for a business card.”_

_“Whatever.”_

_“For real,” she opened the messenger bag slung across her shoulder. “If he wasn’t into you then…”_

_The squealing of tires followed by the sound of metal slamming into metal pulled Claudia’s head up quickly. Three cars had lost control and slammed into each other on the street.  She watched in horror as another jumped the curb and hit a fire hydrant._

_People screamed and ran but her attention was pulled in by a little girl, maybe 10, who was whirling around shouting for her mom._

_“Steve,” Claudia dropped her coffee and reached into her bag to pulled out her Farnsworth. “I don’t smell fudge but my artifact Spidey sense is tingling.”_

_She looked over to where her friend had been standing. He was gone.  Claudia took a few steps, scanning the sidewalk frantically._

_“Steve!” she shouted. “Steve!”_

_October 15_

_“The remaining Regents are being moved to safe houses,” Kosan’s sober faced filled the small black and white screen. “All remaining Agents, both current and retired are being called in to assist. That includes you Miss Wells.”_

_HG frowned deeply. She had not returned to the Warehouse for a reason._

_“And what if I refuse?”_

_“This very well may be a catastrophic artifact event. Thousands have disappeared into thin air, perhaps millions. We need everyone here to get to the bottom of this. And quickly.” He gave her a hard look. “I think even you can change your rules until this situation passes.”_

_“Fine.”_

_October 16_

_Helena took a deep breath before pushing open the door to Artie’s office._

_She was prepared for many possible scenarios. Not an empty room._

_“Bugger,” she whispered, thinking her worse fear come true._

_“They’re at the B &B,” Artie’s voice caused her to jump. “Getting lunch.” He walked over to his desk and set a thick stack of files down._

_“Hello Arthur.”_

_He nodded._

_“Is anyone else coming?”_

_“It seems this ‘event’ picked its people well.  Or maybe not well enough.” he shook his head. “Any former agent that isn’t evil or dead is missing. Save you.”_

_HG knew there were only a handful of former Agents found on the globe. She didn’t think she would be the only one left._

_“And the Regents?”_

_“Down to four.”_

_“The Agents?”_

_“Pete and Myka. Plus Claudia, who’s now the Caretaker since Mrs. Fredric is missing.”_

_HG clutched the locket at her chest and sank slowly into a nearby chair._

 

Three years later

HG stumbled into the kitchen of the B&B. She and Myka had only returned from retrieval in Istanbul a few hours before but she couldn’t sleep. Despite the jet lag she was up with the sun.

“Hey,” Pete, nearly as tired but for a different reason greeted her as she entered. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

“Man you must be tired if you’re drinking coffee.” Pete joked as he pulled down another mug. “What time did you guys get in?”

“Around 3:30 or so.”

“I’m surprised you’re even up.”

HG hummed in reply. None of them were sleeping very much these days.

“So with Artie in DC for the hearings,” Pete sat down across from HG at the kitchen table, “and Claudia with Kosan picking new Regents we’ve been given a few days off.”

“That’s nice,” if there was anything HG didn’t need was more free time.

“I’m going to see Jeannie for a few days. Catch up.”

“And how is your sister?”

“As well as any of us. Mom leaving has been hard.” 

Pete looked away trying to hide the pain.  Helena slid her hand off of her lap and onto his as it rested on the table. 

She was well aware of what her friend was feeling.

Silence fell in the kitchen as the sun rose. 

 

 

HG came home for lunch a few hours later, needing a break from her current project.  Myka was up and watching TV in the den.

Day two of the Senate Committee hearings played on the screen.

“So,” an elderly man asked on the screen, “after nearly a year of research and countless dollars the best that you can come up with, and I’m paraphrasing here, is we don’t know?”

With a huff, Myka turned off the screen.

“Did you sleep well?” HG ventured into the dim room.

“Yeah.” Myka assed her appearance. “But you didn’t.”

“I am well.”

“No,” Myka frowned, “you’re not. Come here.”

The taller agent adjusted herself on the couch to allow Helena to sit and lean against her for comfort.

“Better?” Myka asked.

“Yes. Did Pete tell you?”

“About our days off, yeah.” Myka leaned further into the couch, tightening her hold on HG. “I woke up right before he left.”

“Do you need to take time to visit your family?”

“Not right now,” she whispered. “Besides my mom doesn’t talk anymore, remember.”

Helena snuggled deeper into the embrace.

“Of course. I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

HG felt her body begin to relax.

 

It was dark by the time HG woke up disoriented and a bit sore. She was alone on the couch in a quiet room.  She waited a few moments, mentally shaking the fog from her mind and listening for any signs of life in the house.

There were none.

After a moment of searching she found the remote hidden in the couch cushions.

Television had fascinated HG at first.  She had spent a great deal of time watching it while on the run with the Astrolabe. Then later as she adapted to her job with the Boone Police Department. There were some excellent programs on the more educational channels but many of the shows were mindless drivel.  

Claudia had explained how different things were now, with many of the shows losing key personnel three years ago this month. Some programs had been cancelled, others changed radically.

Now there was hardly anything worthy of her viewing attention.

The volume was low so she was able to hear the front door open and close. Myka had returned from whatever errand she had left to perform. A few minutes later footsteps retreated upstairs.

There would have been a time in Helena’s past where she would have followed those footsteps up those steps and a behind closed door.

Now was not it.


	95. But I’m sick of spending these lonely nights training myself not to care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And unlike their previous meeting over a year ago, Myka made the first move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well well, this is not the update I'd planned. I started work on something else but wound up with an update to the 80s Wolf of Wall Street AU found in chapters 44 and 58. Thank you Vodka, Interpol and getting home from work early for this update. 
> 
> And thank you readers for staying with this randomness. You guys are the best.

For some reason Myka had thought coming to New York would be a good thing. Her Agent had lined up an audition for a play (of all things) and her friend from school Leena had told her that Paradise Garage would be closing soon.

And if there was anything Myka loved to do was dance.

But HG was here in New York. Wrapping up her business with Stratton Oakmont, preparing for her move to California and a new life. A life she’d offered to share with Myka.

(And God was part of her interested. There had never been anyone like HG. Like Helena.  In the years she’d spent in LA.)

But Myka didn’t do picket fence and forever. She’d crashed once while driving on that road and that wasn’t a mistake she was ready to make. Ever again. She had politely declined her off and on to join her in San Francisco.  HG had lined up some sketchy job with a start up called Maxis which held zero appeal.  Myka’s life and her career was in Los Angeles.

 

_“But Myka,” Steve, her friend and favorite gay had told her one day at brunch, “HG isn’t the same as that small town boy back home.”_

_“And how do you know?” Myka frowned. “She sells bullshit for a living.”_

_“I asked her.”_

_“WHAT!?”_

_“Yep,” Steve smirked and took a sip of his Mimosa. “I have a knack for these things.  She’s the real deal.”_

 

So while HG finished her final week doing whatever she did on Wall Street, Myka auditioned for a minor role in Mamet’s new play.  The irony of the plays subject-the movie business- wasn’t lost on her. Especially given the Hollywood rollercoaster she’d been riding since the late 70s.

There was a certain beauty in HG’s plan to leave the old and start anew.  Myka was in her mid 30s and her time to ‘hit it big’ was running out.  So Broadway had suddenly become a viable option.

(At least that’s what her Agent told her.)

 

The audition went well and Myka was in good spirits when she met Leena for drinks before they headed to Paradise Garage.  No food, drinks or drugs were allowed in the club which was fine.  For once she was ready just to dance and have a good time before she headed home to LA.

“Did you call your friend?” Leena asked as they got out of the cab.

“Why would I?”

“Steve told me you two were,” Leena paused as she pulled out her ID, “close.”

Myka snorted. “I’d hardly call a series of one night stands close.”

“A series that continued for nearly a year? That involved meeting your friends in LA? I’d call that close.”

Myka sighed. “I’d just like to spend my last night here dancing.”

“Okay.”

 

Myka had timed her visit well, with Levan playing opener to Mr. Fingers.  Nothing could keep her moving like house music and she’d lost track of the hours spent on the floor. Leena had been her partner to start but the Prop Master had many friends and had drifted off some time ago.  

In hindsight she should have known.  Because she had worked so hard to avoid this exact situation (by not calling or writing. By avoiding the handful of people they both knew. By making this a short trip and staying with a friend instead of a hotel.)  Of course HG, ever the thrill seeker would spend her last few hours in her home city at the best club doing what she loved second best (behind making money).

Things played out just as they had almost year and a half ago. Eyes met across the dance floor. Nods and knowing smirks were exchanged.

But this Myka’s thoughts went far beyond “she’s hot” and “I bet she’s a great fuck” this time around. She knew Helena far better than she’d known anyone else.  And the woman knew her in ways that she’d never imagined.

And unlike their previous meeting over a year ago, Myka made the first move.

“Well this is unexpected,” dark eyes searched her face.

“I had a last minute audition.”

“Really.”


	96. How can it feel, this wrong,  this moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There we no suspects but she knew and her heart dropped. This was another kill to add to HG’s ledger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every now and then the Somewhere in London muse comes on by and we chat for a bit. There's been a pic over on Tumblr that's been a bit too loud to ignore and so this was born. Call it a prequel to Somewhere in London (hence the post in Vodka instead.) Not to mention Portishead on repeat lately. So I give you a very brief drabble in my favorite universe.
> 
> Oh and there's a purely indulgent reference to The Adventures of Wells and Wolcott in this as well. What can I say? I like my AU worlds to sync up as much as possible.

The late nights spent scouring Claudia’s secret files had taken their toll and Myka found herself wearing glasses to review the latest report. HG had been rouge for a couple of years now and other than a brief glimpse in London and the random encounter in Vegas, Myka hadn’t heard from her one time friend and lover in quite some time.

(And how she wished that lover would be present tense instead of past.)

Artie had been increasing her clearance level since it was now clear she would be his successor and with Claude locked down as the next Caretaker, so tracking the Agent turned assassin had been relatively easy. 

But the picture that was being painted was a grim one. She had spent the past couple of hours reviewing the police reports out of Hong Kong regarding the mysterious death of an up and coming business man in the real estate market.  

There we no suspects but she knew and her heart dropped. This was another kill to add to HG’s ledger.

 

She closed the report with a sigh and turned off her computer.  For whatever reason she continued to hold out hope that HG-Helena-would make peace with The Regents and return to the Warehouse. But now, now after a successful kill another door was  slamming.

And eventually there would be a tipping point from which no one would recover.

 

HG sipped her tea and leaned back into the first class seat.  She was on her way to Helsinki for a second simple job.  Though the city itself would always reminder her of that awful night with Wolly when she first learned of Christina’s death.

There was no time to travel that path and HG mentally shook herself.  Her assistant had downloaded the pertinent files on her next task.  It would be a quick job like the one she was leaving in Hong Kong but one could never be too careful. Damien had told her story after story of those in her profession whose judgment had been clouded.

And things never ended well in those tales.

So Helsinki was just another step on the ladder she was climbing. Another means to an end.

And other step away from the Warehouse.

And Myka.


	97. Train 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ll do what you ask,” HG smirked. “For two blocks per gate.”  
> Rumbles of disgust over a teenager being an addict and what kind of mother let that happen but Myka ignored them. They needed Wells to get to the front.  
> “Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bering and Wells Snowpiercer style. (If you haven't seen that movie, we what are you waiting for because it's fantastic.)
> 
> If you're not familiar with the story it's basically the world is a frozen wasteland and all the survivors are circling the globe on a train. So you know a dystopian future.

Myka sat down across from Artie, letting the sway of the back of the train calm her for a moment. Her leader opened the small vile and unfurled the message sent from their mysterious sympathizer. She’d been 17 when she and Sam had lucked into boarding Macpherson’s train as the temperatures fell and the world froze.

Now after 17 years of living in filth and despair, she wondered those left behind were the lucky ones.  

“Is it time?” she asked her mentor.

“Not quite yet,” he used the umbrella handle that served as his right hand to push his glasses up. “But soon, maybe another day or two. We also need to secure this,” he handed over the rolled piece of red paper.

“HG Wells?” Myka’s brows furrowed. “The author?”

“Hardly,” Artie chuckled. “The designer of the gates that separate the cars on this train. If we’re going to get to the front we’ll need Wells to open the doors.  And plenty of Krono.”

“Great, an addict.”

“We all have our shortcomings,” Artie tapped the pipe that served as his left leg with the umbrella that served as his right arm.

 

“You know it’s going to have to be you,” Claudia whispered from the bunk below hers. They had finished getting everything together, even getting the Krono from Kosan. Tomorrow when the protein bars came they would make their move.

“Artie’s our leader,” Myka shifted in a vain attempt to get comfortable.  “He’s always been our leader.”

“He’s an old man.”

“And he’s our leader. End of discussion.”

 

 

“Myka!”

“Myka!”

Myka turned away from where the rest of her team was assembling the hollow steel oil drums. They’d have to hurry since meal time was almost here. Macpherson’s guards would bring the gelatinous protien blocks and they would have four seconds to get the barrels through the gates to prevent them from closing.

And hopefully not get shot in the process.

“I want to come with you,” Leena, her face still bruised and eye swollen from when the guards had beat her down as he tried to protect her five year old son.

He’d been taken anyway.

“No.”

“They have my boy Myka.  You need me.”

“I don’t…”

The meal alarm cut off her reply.

“Shit,” Claudia raced to the front of the car. “They’re early. What are we gonna do?”

 

 

“Okay,” one of the guards called. “Line up and count off.”

The back of the train passengers slid closer together, hiding the barrels between them.

“Row one,” the guard called and the first group of people sat down.

“Shit,” looked up at Myka. “They’re gonna find us.”

“Row two,” the guard called and another wave sat.

“We’re tired of this crap!” Leena’s voice came from somewhere on Myka’s left. “Where’s the real food?”

“Yeah,” Claudia joined in. “Enough with this shit.”

Others from Bering’s Rebellion began to join in, shouting and raisin their arms.

Grimacing, Myka quickly made her way to the front, her decision made.

She grabbed the lead guard’s machine gun, put the barrel to her head and pulled the trigger.

Click.

“No bullets!”  Claudia screamed and the attack was on.

 

“HG Wells,” Claudia read the name on the cell.  They had made their way through four cars and to the prison block. Wells, being an addict, was secured in one of the shelf units that reminded Myka of where bodies were kept in a morgue.

“Open it,” Myka nodded and crossed her arms.

A slim, pale form with long dirty dark hair lay curled on her side. She was dressed in an all black suit that was popular with those who lived at the front of the train.

“A woman,” Claudia looked over at Myka. “Didn’t expect that.”

“Hey,” Myka reached over and laid Wells on her back. “Krono head. Wake up.”

She reached into the pocket of her Pea Coat and pulled out a cube of Krono.

“Wells wake up.” Myka waved the hallucinogenic drug under her nose. “Look what I have.”

“Hmm,” the woman began to stir and slowly open her eyes.  After a moment she sat up and let her legs dangle off the edge of the slab. She reached down into her boot and pulled out a silver case.

“Cigarettes,” Leena’s voice filled with awe. “I thought those went extinct 10 years ago.”

The group was entranced as the system designer lit up one of the two remaining cigarettes in the case.

“What’s all this about then?”  Dark eyes met Myka’s.

“You’re HG Wells, the designer of the gate locks, right?”

“And?”

“We need you to open the gates. We’re going to the front.”

“Sod off back of the train. Why would I want to help you do that,” HG took another drag from her smoke.

“For ever gate you open you get one block of Krono. Fresh and uncut. Right from the source.”

“Right then,” HG finished the cigarette. “Fuck you.”

Quicker than anyone thought possible the woman hopped down and began to fight her way out of the crowd.

“Hold her,” Myka roared as her men subdued Wells. “Where do you think you’re going?”

HG’s head turned as she looked at another cell a few down from hers.

“Christina Wells,” Myka read. “Open it.”

Claudia rushed forward and opened the cell, revealing a teen girl.

“Christina,” HG called and the girl’s eyes flew open.

With a nod, Myka’s men released the other woman and she made her way to her daughter.

“I’ll do what you ask,” HG smirked. “For two blocks per gate.”

Rumbles of disgust over a teenager being an addict and what kind of mother let that happen but Myka ignored them.   They needed Wells to get to the front.

“Deal.”


	98. Why, why lord? Why do you reward me thus?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I lived for art, I lived for love, I never harmed a living soul! With a discreet hand I relieved all misfortunes I encountered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been bouncing this idea in my head around for a bit and finally got it down. I intended this for part 100, but it's here a bit sooner. Plus I promised MsDaphneFielding an opera fic. This isn't quite the topic discussed but I hope this tides you through until the other is ready.
> 
> And to the loyal readers since part 1, this is for you.

“You know the last time I was here was for an artifact.”

“Really?”

“Wolly and I were searching for Falstaff’s goblet. Had a devil of the time tracking it down,” she smirked. “This might be hard to believe but there were more wine gardens in 1900 than there are today.”

“But you found the artifact?”

“Of course,” she paused. “Wolly did actually. I was not myself for most of the retrieval and was relegated to research duty for several days.”

They fell silent as they walked through the plaza. The mid summer sun was setting and the lights from the shops surrounding the square hadn’t turned on. Myka knew to give her wife space during moments like this. When the memories would swarm around Helena’s head so thick Myka could almost see them replay as if on a TV screen.

“I should have known,” Helena said almost to herself as she looked across the plaza at the Teatro dell’Opera di Roma.  Crowds milled outside, a light gray cloud over their heads.

“What is it?” Myka stepped closer and took Helena’s hand.

“I was put on research duty because of this opera,” Helena began to walk toward the theater. “I stumbled upon a Puccini premiere while here and snuck in for the second act.  Darclee was in excellent form that night.”

“You snuck into the premiere of Tosca?” Myka’s eyebrows rose.

“I almost wish I hadn’t,” Helena admitted. “It nearly broke me. I knew I’d returned too soon to the Warehouse.”  She looked down. “I sometimes wonder if that wasn’t the night that set me down the dark path that led me to the Bronze.”

“It also led you to me,” Myka offered and Helena stopped walking.

“It did,” she turned and pulled the taller woman into her arms, kissing her with a passion that surprised them both.

“So,” Myka said softly. “Do you want to head back to the hotel?”

Helena heard the ushers call out, bringing in the smokers and late arrivals rushing into the theater.

“Not just yet,” Helena grinned and took Myka’s hand as they slipped into the crowd.

 

 

“Do you want to stay for the third act?” Myka asked as they sat on the steps of the theater.  Somehow they’d managed to find seats in the back of the theater just as the lights dimmed. Myka had kept her eye on her partner for all of Act I, mentally reviewing the show, wondering what had upset Helena during that premiere.

It wasn’t until Act II that Myka realized what had upset HG 114 years ago.

“No,” Helena replied softly. “If that’s okay with you.”

“Of course,” Myka stood and offered her hand.

“Thank you,” Helena smiled. “For indulging me in my nostalgia.”

“Anytime,” Myka kissed the shorter woman’s head.  “And tomorrow we snag that artifact. Together.”

Helena smiled. “Together.”


	99. If the sun comes up and I still don’t want to stagger home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If only they’d had more time.  
> If only Martino hadn’t made that bet.  
> If only his sister hadn’t got that ring days before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my goal this staycation week was to come up with something for each day. So far we've got a Degenerate update, a tie in to chapter 1 of Vodka and this late night dystopian ramble. The writer's block is strong with me right now (in spite of what things might look like). 
> 
> Thanks for reading and please let me know how things in Vodka are working for you.

Of course this is how it ends.  After a night of easy drops, it only made sense that things would go sideways just before dawn.

“How much time?”

Claudia, safe at HQ looked over at the clock. “10 minutes.”

“Fuck.”

“Dude you got this.”

Myka sighed and shut of the viewer. 

“Chief things are looking a little bright out there,” Pete’s voice filled her ear. “About 10 till sun up?”

“Yep,” Myka’s hands flew across the console, trying to squeeze any bit of extra juice from the craft as they skimmed along the planet’s surface.

“And how long till we reach 13?”

“12 minutes.”

“Fuck.”

“Exactly.”

 

If only they didn’t have to refuel at 8. If only she hadn’t spent time talking with Buck at 11. If only she’d checked in sooner with Artie at 14.

If only, if only, if only.

The com chirped. 

“Station Manager Wells,” Myka hoped she smiled instead of grimaced.

“Chief Bering,” the station manger greeted with a grin, which quickly fell. “You’re in route.”

“Afraid so.”

“Damn it Myka,” the other woman looked down, “you’re two minutes behind schedule. When the sun comes up…”

“Well be outside. And fried. I’m well aware.”

“Is there any way…”

“Just have your people ready for a hot entry. And possible casualties.”

“Be careful Myka.”

 

Chief Bering had been making this run for the past five years. Along with her crew of Lattimer, Jinks and Fredric they were the best at supplying all of the outposts on this rock in the middle of space.  But Myka’s stubborn streak had gotten the best of her, so when Chief Martino had claimed that no one, save him, could hit all the stations in one night she had walked away.

But then Pete had opened his big mouth and she had to accept the challenge.

If only.

 

If only she hadn’t saved 13 for last. But this run was before the weekly break and the crew could spend the four days off at any outpost they chose.  And if there was an outpost they all agreed on it was 13.

Leena would get to spend time with her mom.

Pete would get to visit with his sister and Amanda.

Steve could hook up with his favorite foreman Liam.

And of course Station Manger Wells would be there.

(If only she hadn’t accepted that dinner six months ago.  And what came after.)

 

Myka flipped her goggles down as the sun crept above the horizon. 

Sunrise in two minutes, outpost 13 in three.

“Come on,” she gritted her teeth.

“Pete I need you to get me more,” she barked into the com.

God bless Pete because whatever he did gave them just a bit more juice.

Only 30 seconds separated sun up and safe haven.

If only that was enough.

 

 

“ _Have you heard the story of Chief Bering?”_

_“Oh I think everyone’s heard that old wives tale,” the young man chuckled. These old timers from the early years of the mining operation._

_“It’s no tall tale son,” the old man frowned. “I was a deckhand on 13 when that ship blazed in, on fire from the sunrise. Only 30 seconds out in that hell and you could barely recognize that craft.”_

_“Good thing the shielding has improved over the years.” He looked over at the old timer. “So why she do it then? If you were there. You must have seen.”_

_“Of course I saw,” the man growled. Thinking of the look on his sister’s face as she pulled the Chief from the wrecked craft._

_If only they’d had more time._

_If only Martino hadn’t made that bet._

_If only his sister hadn’t got that ring days before._

_“Charles, quit pestering that young man and come on,” Helena’s voice rang out, causing both men to turn in surprise._

_“Chief Bering is waiting. The sun won’t stay down forever.”_

_The young man’s eyes widened as Charles Wells smirked before draining his drink._

_If only kids these days knew their history._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we sit, 99 chapters forever destined to be part of the interwebs of a collection of rambles that I never expected to get so big. Or so crazy. Or with so many views (thanks everyone who just pushed Vodka past 12K in views.)
> 
> 100 is a big number and I feel like it deserves something special but I'm not sure what. So I'm open to suggestions, prompts, you name it for the big 100. Lurkers and regular commenters now is your time to let me know. Hit me up here or on Tumblr at MFAngeleeta to share your thoughts. You've got some time but don't wait too long. 
> 
> Thanks in advance for your help with this. And for your continued support.


	100. Write

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a smile and confidence you had once thought lost, you put pen to paper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so here it is, the 100 chapter of this series. Words can't express how thankful I am for this fandom and all of the readers of this mish mash/hot mess/insanity/lovefest for Bering and Wells.
> 
> So this is a bit of a love letter to many of my favorite fics out there because without them there wouldn't be a Vodka series. So make sure and check out the catalog of Apparitionism, Roadie, Ms Daphne Fielding, Ellabell, Journaliar, RacetheWind_10, Webgeekist, Jon6lisa, Kla1991, Gigi2690 and the woman who pulled me into this fandom Anamatics because they are all referenced in this update. I would not be writing in this fandom if it wasn't for them.
> 
> Again thank you so much for taking time to check out The Vodka Made Me Do It.

The journal is shoved in front of you.

“Write.”

“I can’t.”

“Write.”

“I told you, I...”

“Write.”

 

You spend a long time looking at the black book and blue pen set before you. The room is silent.  Walls a hideous taupe color. No windows or portraits adorn the blank canvas around you.  There is nothing to distract you from your missive.

 

Write.

 

 

You know what they want. They want a catalogue of who you once were, who you are now and (maybe) who you hope to be.  But you’re not quite sure if there is a future because you’ve been living your life in such small segments as of late. Not thinking, not daring to look too far in either direction. Keep your head down, be invisible, be someone else.

Vehicles had been soaring through air for a shorter time period that it’d been since you last put pen to paper to create something other than destruction. Kipling had been right that day in the office, you and Victor had much in common.

 

With a sigh you opened to the first blank page of the journal.

 

Write.

 

 

But what would you say? What could you tell them that wasn’t already carefully documented in the yellowing pages of hidden archives?  You sighed again. Perhaps another fiction would be best to relay your past.  A metaphor of who you once were.

A story of a Roman slave who is saved by her oppressors?  A pirate sailing the high seas?  A knight on a Crusade to save the Holy Land?

You crossed out another page and started anew.

 

Write.

 

You leaned back into the chair, staring at another blank page, reflecting on your time spent immobile and all of the things that had happened while you were away.

If you had made it to the early part of the 20th century there was no doubt that you would have served the King during the Great War. Perhaps in a trench, or as a nurse, or as a spy.  Maybe even as an Agent, since war created more artifacts than anything else.

After a moment’s reflection you crossed out another page.

It was the epitome of irony given your past. You still abhorred violence.

 

Write.

 

Many times in many centuries you had been told of your flair for the dramatic.  You had played many roles in your time as an Agent and cinema, especially those lovely black and white films from between the wars, were delightful.  Or perhaps the stage. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of you performing Oscar’s plays.

Again, after reading what you had begun you crossed out the page. The past needed to remain in the past. No metaphor would do it justice.

 

 

No, if anything you’d be an engineer in this modern world, with the assistance of Claudia (and perhaps Pete).  Wait, not an engineer, a professor with Claudia as your assistant working on discovering some great mystery (such as the Warehouse).

But what if your fate had been different. What if you had the help you now knew you needed? (How different things would have been.)  If there was someone out there to work with you and assist with the jarring transition into the modern world.  You knew Dr. Calder wasn’t the only Atlanta based physician available.

 

Write.

 

 

There was no clock on the wall to tell you how long you’d sat at that table, pen clutched in your hand. The past and the present remained elusive. No idea, no words, no concepts were sufficient to describe what was floating in your brain.

You turned to the future.  You smiled at the thought of an adult Adelaide as an Agent and working side by side.  Or perhaps a distant future where you fought for the survival of the human race as you hurled through space as one the last survivors.  (But really, you were more likely to be some sort of mundane investigator on the fringe of the known universe.)

 

Write.

 

Again, you  crossed off another idea because they simply did not work. Something was missing.

Scratch that, someone.

 

Write.

 

Because she would be the one to free you from slavery, your counterpart in the romantic comedy, the one flying next to you in the heat of battle.

The last hold out in a world torn asunder by destruction and the one standing on the steps of the Teatro Costanzi with a smile on her face and love in her heart.  In all worlds, in all outcomes, she was your one.

And no story would be complete without her.

 

Write.

 

 

With a smile and confidence you had once thought lost, you put pen to paper.


	101. Because doubt is fire and fire is gonna burn you up until you are but ash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “She doesn’t feel anything,” HG read slowly, meeting the eyes of a young muscular man with dark hair. “There is no point.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for the many kind words for Chapter 100! You guys are the best!
> 
> So it's back to the angst world of The Leftovers found in Chapter 94. This AU is set in the HBO series. (Which probably won't be renewed so please check it out. It's fantastic.)

Helena felt her phone buzz as she waited in the barely moving line at Starbucks.  Fishing around for a moment she pulled it out of her pocket.

“Hello Claudia.”

“HG,” a somewhat chipper voice replied. “I wanted to check in on things. How’s it going?”

Helena sighed. “As well as once could have expected I suppose,” she paused, her eyes drifting to the pair of men in all white standing outside the shop.  “We’ve been followed ever since Myka attempted to visit her mother.”

“The GR?”

“Yes,” Helena turned and focused on the balding head in front of her.  “Tracy explained that this cult targets individuals who they feel are candidates to join their ranks.”

“That lady in update New York, the one that Mykes heard about? She was GR?”

“Yes, she was one of them. I think that’s what prompted this weekend visit.”

Helena looked up again. The balding man was about to place his order.

“I’ll do a little digging,” Claudia offered, “see if I can come up with anything on these guys.”

“Thank you darling,” Helena smiled. “I’ll call you back soon.”

 

 

Helena had done a fair amount of research on the Guilty Remnant as soon as she had learned Myka’s mother had joined the group. Myka’s father had been one of the people taken on October 14th and Jeanie had not reacted well. The group claimed to be living reminders of what had happened and the futility of continuing on in the ‘old world’ lifestyle. 

There was a cul de sac a couple of blocks away from the former Bering and Son’s bookstore where the GR had taken up residence.  Helena shuttered as she walked by the closed store, windows painted white by Mrs. Bering’s new friends. 

She would never forget the look of helplessness as Myka talked of the recent attacks on GR members across the country.  How they were being harassed, burned out and in some cases, stoned to death.  Both she and Tracy had begged their mother to reconsider joining but to no avail.

_“I think it’s time you paid a visit to your sister,” Helena had proposed one night as the pair sat in front of the quite glow of the television.  “It would be nice to see her and your nephew. I’m sure he must be quite big by now.”_

_“Only if you come with me,” Myka had mumbled as she rested in Helena’s arms._

_“Of course,” she dropped a chaste kiss on dark curls._

 

After a few hours spent with Tracy and her family, Helena had agreed to investigate the GR’s neighborhood compound.  Other than the smattering of people in all white shoveling snow, you wouldn’t even realize that this was where the group was living.

Myka had watched, body tense, as her mother came out of one of the houses.  Before Helena could react the Agent had sprinted down the block.

“Mom,” Myka had rasped. “Mom please.”

The older woman hadn’t looked away taking in her daughter’s pain without reaction. Silently she turned and began to return to her home.

“Mom!” Myka reached out, grapping the older woman’s arm.

Shovels clattered to the ground.

“Don’t walk away. Talk to me.”

Myka’s mother pulled her arm free.

 Yellow notepads were shoved in HG’s face.

_Go way.  You’re not welcome here. She’s not welcome, take her away._

The Agents were quickly outnumbered as more members poured from the houses.

“Myka perhaps we should go.”

“NO!” Myka shouted.  “Not until she understands that she’s not the only one hurting. That this isn’t the answer.”

Another note pad was flashed at HG.

“She doesn’t feel anything,”  HG read slowly, meeting the eyes of a young muscular man with dark hair. “There is no point.”

That had been two days ago.

 

Their flight back to South Dakota left later that evening  and Myka had insisted on a stake out of the compound before they left. She had kissed Kevin on  the cheek, held her nephew Cooper close and clung to Tracy as if this would be the last time they ever spoke.

Then driven to the other side of town to watch.

“Here is your venti Americano with an extra shot,” HG handed the beverage over then slid into the passenger’s seat.  “Has anything happened?”

“No,” Myka replied taking a sip.

Helena leaned back,  trying not to notice the pair of men in all white that now stood on the sidewalk smoking.

She had just begun to doze off, lulled to sleep by inactivity coupled with another restless night, when…

“Do you think they’re right?”

“Who?”

“Them,” she waved at a nearby house, “the GR. That this is all pointless now.”

“Even in my darkest hours after Christina’s death,” Helena finally said. “I never thought the work the Warehouse did was pointless.  Cruel at times, yes, pointless no.”

“But what about the rest,” Myka sounded tired. “What does it matter? Why do we matter when things can be taken from us so abruptly?”

“People leave us every day Myka. Many left suddenly and without reason on October 14, they continue to do so now.  Yes, some may have an explanation but many do not. Random chance. Timing. Location. A series of events that lead to an unexpected conclusion.  There can’t always be a reason.”

They sat again in silence for some time, watching people in white go about their business as the sun set on a cold January afternoon.

“We should go” HG scanned a message from Claudia. “Our flight leaves in 90 minutes.”

 

There were only a handful of people on the plane from Kansas City to Cedar Rapids thanks to questionable weather and the late hour.  Helena had napped for most of the trip in preparation for the drive to Univille.

She stood at the baggage carousel waiting when she felt hands on her hips spinning her around. Before she could speak, lips softly met her own. After a brief moment she settled into the kiss. The first they had shared since HG had left years before, when they had first been paired together.

Myka kept her eyes shut as she pulled back, resting her forehead on Helena’s.  “Thank you.”


	102. You wish I was your pound cake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was the most intense four minutes of her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flawless remix (Bey and Nicki Minaj) plus lots of Vodka and you have my new stripper AU.

Long ago she’d decided this was just a job. A way to make more money, faster and better, that would pay for the classes that would get her into med school.  Shit wasn’t cheap and where she was from, a full ride to college was something only talked about on Pretty Little Liars.

So she had Pete hook her up with a fake ID at age 17 so she could start dancing to earn a quick buck.  Warren aka her dad didn’t give a shit what she did after school. As long as she cooked him dinner before he headed down to the local bar to get plastered ever night. Her mom had split years ago, taking her younger sister with her.

 Parental consent on anything was a joke.

She’d learned a long time ago to how to pretend to be someone else. Adopting a stage persona had been very easy.

And for all of her senior year she danced at The Warehouse.  Between the salary and the tips she managed to save up quite a bit for school.  Not to mention the academic scholarship she’d received.  Yes, if she’d agreed to visit the Champagne Room she’d earn more but there were some lines that couldn’t be crossed.

Myka was three weeks from moving to Chicago and Northwestern when she’d walked into the club.

It was hot in the ATL that summer which helped with the show. Everyone was a bit looser and for the dancers who could pull the crowd in the money flowed. Myka had figured out what worked best while performing but declined all requests for a private dance that night.  She’d figured out in 8th grade that men had too many legs for her taste and that the creepers at the club were a definite hell no.

“That one,” Leena had pointed to a woman who looked only a few years older than herself. “She’s requested a private dance.”

“Really,” Myka spent a moment looking over the dark haired woman. She screamed power player on a trip with in the suit and cool expression. The sweaty and cheering men next to her spoke of a business trip with all the perks.

“How much did this one offer,” Myka asked. She looked at the woman again. There was something different about this one.

 Leena smiled. “$500 and that’s without the tip.”

“Really? You’re sure she’s good for it?”

“I already have the cash in hand. “ Leena gave a knowing smile. “I told her that the Agent didn’t give private shows but she flashed the cash. Claimed she’d been here many times but finally had things in order for a private visit.”

Myka couldn’t believe the word that came out of her mouth.

“Okay.”

 

 

“My name is Helena,” the dark haired beauty said as she sat smoothly on the plush couch.

“Okay.” Myka acknowledged. “You’re English.”

“Yes,” the other woman smiled. “Though after five years in the States I’m quite Americanized.”

“Great,” Myka met the other woman’s dark eyes. “You know the rules.  The moment you touch me in any way we’re done. No refunds.”

“Understood.” Helena smiled. “It will be a difficult task,” she paused for a moment. “Not to touch. My brother is fan of this establishment and I’ve seen you dance many times this summer. You move beautifully.”

“Thank you,” Myka felt her cheeks heat. “Seriously. But still, no touching.”

 

One of the keys to being a successful dancer in a city where almost anything went down in the clubs was no eye contact.  Dealing with her dad had taught her how to appear invested in a conversation but mentally be somewhere else.

But as soon as she spun around, dark brown eyes met hers and she felt lost. It was almost as if this woman, Helena, saw something in her that others didn’t. Or couldn’t.  As if she was more than just some stripper in a dingy club who was doing this just for the money.

It was the most intense four minutes of her life.

 

“Thank you,” Helena’s voice cracked when the song ended.  “That was,” she swallowed. “Incredible.”

“You’re welcome,” Myka hoped the red lighting hid her deep blush.

“If I might be so bold to ask, what is your name?”

“Myka.”

“Myka,” Helena repeated with a smile. “Lovely.”

 

 

Myka pulled out her phone and smiled.

“Pete,” she greeted.

“Heya Mykes,” her best friend replied. “Wanted to call and check on my college girl.”

“Pete, we talked for three hours yesterday, I was almost late for class.”

“What can I say, I miss my best friend.”

“Well come up here and see me,” Myka switched the phone to her other hand as she opened the door to the building. “It’s summer session so I only have class three days a week.”

“Maybe. I’ll talk to Artie and see if I can get a few days off.”

“Great!” Myka caught a glimpse of the time on a hallway clock. “I’ve got to go, class starts in five minutes. I’ll call you later.”

Myka had harassed the head of the biology department for months to get into this upper level class and there was no way she was going to be late the first day. It was said that Dr. Fredric had a zero tolerance for tardiness and would drop you from the class in a heartbeat if you broke one of her rules.

“Crap,” Myka preferred to sit close to the front of the room. So did everyone else apparently. There were only a few seats left in the back row of the small lecture hall.

 

“Is this seat taken,” Myka pointed to a chair occupied by a book bag, “or are you holding it for someone?”

“Oh sorry.”

Myka swallowed hard as familiar dark eyes met hers.

“I’d always hoped to see you again Myka.” Helena smiled and moved her book bag. “How have you been?”

“Fine,” she replied tensely. No one knew what she did most of last year to help pay from school.  And no one would.  It’s why she’d picked a school so far away from home.  Fighting the instinct to flee, she sat down in the open space.

“How are you here?”

“I’m a junior.  I was interning last summer at my brother’s firm when we met.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” Helena winked as Dr. Fredric’s TA, Claudia called the class to order.

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Myka said to herself as the lecture started.


	103. Them chickens is ash and I’m lotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Fuck,” she cursed for an entirely different reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the next installment of my surprisingly popular stripper AU started in the chapter 102. This is looking to be a bit of a longer series so rest assured there will be more. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think!

One of the benefits of spending a year being paid (mostly) in cash is that it couldn’t be tracker or counted as income for tax purposes.  Thanks to that tax snafu Myka was able to qualify for room and board assistance year round. And in the summer that meant a single.

(Her roommate during the school year Becky had been perfectly fine but they never developed into more than friendly acquaintances.  Myka had felt very rough around the edges the first and most of the second quarter so it was fine that Becky spent her weekends out with her friends.  It gave Myka more time to study in the quiet of her room.)

It wasn’t until the third quarter that she’d finally made more of a friend in Steve and later his boyfriend Liam. The adorable pair that took her around town and introduced her to many of their friends. She was slowly finding her way.

However now free from her father and the dark lights of the stage she was finding it harder and harder to keep her head down and pretend she didn’t care.

And sitting next to Helena who’s presence had ending her time as the Agent last summer threatened to pulled the cork on all those bottled up feelings she’d worked hard forget.

Feelings about her dad.

Feelings about what she had done.

Feelings about the absolutely gorgeous woman sitting next to her.

The woman who was sitting next to her and asking her something.

 

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

The class was ending and students were gathering their things. She’d missed the last part of the lecture and the assignment for Thursday.

“What did you think of the lecture?” Helena smiled. “Dr. Fredric’s reputation certainly seems warranted.”

“Yeah,” Myka looked down as she packed her messenger bag.

“The material is quite involved,” Helena continued the conversation as Myka attempted to not appear to flee the situation. 

“It is.”

“Myka.” Helena’s tone and soft touch on the arm brought them to a halt just outside the classroom door.

“I meant what I said,” she lowered her voice.  “If you don’t want others to know about your previous employment, they shall not.”

“Okay,” Myka stepped back to create space between the two of them, “thanks. Look I’ve got…”

“Somewhere else to be,” Helena smiled a bit sadly, “I understand.  But I am thrilled to see you again.” She blushed slightly. “I’ve thought of our time together often. It was one of the most intense experiences of my life.”

And just like that night, instead of saying goodbye Myka found herself reaching into her bag for a pen.

“Here’s my number,” she scribbled onto a piece of paper. “Maybe we can study together or something.”

“Or something,” Helena echoed.

 

 

Before she had left the building Myka felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She pulled the device out, expecting and text from Pete or even Steve.

_I wanted for you to have my number too. In case. Helena Wells._

“Oh fuck,” Myka cursed at the little thrill she felt.

 

 

“So,” Liam dipped a fry into ranch, “you and HG.”

“HG who,” Myka plopped down into the lazy boy across from the couch. It was Tuesday which was dinner and Drunk History night at Steve’s place.

“Wells,” Jinks explained.  “I saw you too talking this afternoon in the Bio building.”

“You mean Helena?” Myka frowned at the smirking men.  “So?”

“Wait, you don’t know about Wells?” Liam rolled his eyes. “This is hilarious.”

“Stop,” Steve gave his boyfriend a stern look. 

“No, do tell.” Myka ordered.

“HG’s got a bit of a rep of a ladies…lady,” Steve explained. 

“I’d say” Liam chuckled.

“And what’s so funny about that?” Steve shook his head. “She’s got just as much right as you do to enjoy herself ‘Love ‘em and Leave ‘em Liam.’  Or have you forgotten your freshman year so quickly?”

“I was finding myself,” Liam protested.

“Whatever,” Steve rolled his eyes.  “And maybe she was too.  In case you hadn’t noticed she’s not really been on the scene lately. Ever since that summer internship in Atlanta last year.”

 

Myka sat back into the chair as Steve and Liam bickered for a moment over their mutual acquaintance.  She’d done a quick search in the student directory for Helena Wells.  All she could find was an old picture, email address and that she was a junior with a double major.  

No clubs, no associations, nothing.

 

Myka pushed open the door to her room, grateful again that she lived alone.  It was hot night and she pushed open a window, turning her fan on low.  The small desk lamp provided enough light for her to get ready for bed, old Mariah Carey providing the soundtrack.

_“You have to find a hook,” Leena had explained on Myka’s first day at the club. “Something to hold their attention and pull in their money. Every girl who works here is hot. And that’s not enough.”_

_So Myka had thought of some of the untouchable women she knew. That would be her persona. Never let them get close._

The song changed and Myka began to sway to the familiar tune. It had been one of her favorites to dance to and she easily fell into the routine, closing her eyes and letting her mind wander.

She felt slim hands grasp at her hips as she leaned forward in an arch, pressing back into the body behind her.  The music seemed to increase in volume as she leaned back up and the hands at her waist slid higher and higher. She gasped at how well these hands knew her body.  Her head fell back onto a strong shoulder and as warm lips kissed her neck and gently sucked on her ear.

“God,” her voice was low and her body on fire as one of the hands slipped from her chest down to her stomach. Fingers danced for a moment then slid beneath her sweatpants.

“I wish I could have done this,” Helena said as she nipped at Myka’s neck, “last summer.”

“Me too,” Myka gasped as Helena’s hand slipped lower until…

 

The Star Wars theme blasted from her phone yanking Myka from her all too vivid dream.  The sun was high in the sky.

“Fuck,” she cursed, thankful her only class today didn’t start until 3pm since she’d overslept. 

She looked over at her phone. Pete had called and left a message.

Instead of getting up she sank back into the mattress, replaying the dream in her mind.  

“Fuck,” she cursed for an entirely different reason.


	104. And show this wicked town something beautiful and new

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t forget to invite me to the wedding,” he called as she greeting Claudia and Steve at the other end of the bar with a hug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A sort of season 4 fix it because I wanted to write a dialogue heavy scene. And for long time and sharp eyed readers there's a little twist/shout out at the end of this to one of my other stories. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and I always love to hear from you guys!

Two familiar faces sat down at the end of the bar. Absorbed in their conversation they didn’t notice their sometimes coworker at the other end.

But she noticed them.

“You okay,” the dark haired young man who she’d been conversing with saw the frown on her face immediately.  He leaned back a bit to see the red head and her clean cut male friend chatter away.

“You know those two.” It wasn’t a question.

“We work together.” She paused, “sometimes.”

“And you don’t get along?” he waved at the bartender and pointed at his empty glass.

“We get along quite well actually,” she admitted.

“But you don’t look happy to see them,” he met her eyes in the mirror behind the bar. “Is this because of your British spy thing?”

“English,” she smirked, “and for the last time I’m not some sort of Ian Fleming creation.”

“Could have fooled me with the way you took those goons down.”

“You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“It looked like you needed help,” he shrugged. “How was I to know that you were the Black Widow?”

“Why did I agree to this meeting again?”

“Because you looked like someone who could use a drink,” he said with a grin as the bartender put another been in front of him.

“Are you sure you’re not referring to yourself?”

 

The two businessmen to his left got up, making it easier to from one end of the  bar to another.

“Uh oh,” he murmured. “Your coworkers will see you soon. What to do?”

“I’m going to sit here and finish my pint with the annoying rescue victim I’ve somehow found myself with. Then I’m going to retire to my hotel room for the evening.” She gave him a pointed look. “Alone.”

“Hey,” he raised his left hand to show off a simple gold band on the third finger. “It’s not the kind of party.”

“I have to admit I’m surprised.”

“And I’m surprised you’re not,” nodded towards her bare left hand. “I mean you’re obviously looking since you agreed to drinks with a random stranger.”

She rolled her eyes and fought off a smile.

“Yes, so very desperate,” she huffed out. 

“Not desperate,” he corrected, “lonely.”

 

The pair of flight attendants sitting next to the red head got up from the bar.

 

“Only a handful left and then it’s just us and the Bobbsey twins down there at the other end.”

“I am well aware.”

“Don’t get all English on me hero. You still haven’t told me why you don’t want to go join your friends. Maybe introduce us.”

She sighed.  “The last time I saw them,” she ran her fingers through her long dark hair. “I left rather abruptly.  Without a proper goodbye.”

“Were you pissed at them or vise versa?”

“No. I had to leave because of work.”

“That answer was kinda quick for someone who wasn’t mad about something.”

“As I said, it was for work.”

“A spy mission?”

“Yes.” she shook her head.

“How long ago was that?”

“Four months.”

She thought back to that last day at the Bed and Breakfast. She’d finally come home after being on the run for months with the Astrolabe to a broken team.  Artie was despondent over what he’d done to Leena. Claudia was focused on helping Artie feel better and Steve was focused on Claudia.

And Myka, the main reason she’d finally returned after months of silence, had turned to Pete as her confidant and for comfort in a way that was all too familiar.

Helena Wells was again a step out of time and unable to fit. So after a few weeks she began to take special missions for the Regents or Mrs. Fredric.   Each mission she was gone a bit longer and many of her messages for Myka and Claudia went unanswered.

That morning Mrs. Fredric had appeared with this mission. HG had excused herself from the breakfast table to pack a bag.

Not seeing the frown on Claudia’s face, Pete’s mumbled ‘aw man’ or the small discontented sigh from Myka.

And this time she’d decided not to really call, only text every so often to check in and make sure her fellow Agents were well.

 

“That’s a long time to not talk to your spy friends,” his comment broke HG out of her memory.

“Friends?”

“Yeah, friends.  They look like the kind of people who make friends. They don’t have just coworkers.”

“And what gives you this insight into people you’ve never spoken to? Beer?”

“Maybe,” he took a drink in spite.  “But mostly because you don’t seem to be the type to just have coworkers either. You give a shit about people, in spite of your not wanting to.”

“Oh I do now?”

“Yep.” He nodded. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have given me the time of day after that fight. Or agreed to ‘meet me for a pint’. “

“I’m beginning to regret that decision.”

“I’m also thinking that these coworkers aren’t necessarily the problem,” he glanced to the other end of the bar where the red head was texting on her phone.  “Unless one of them is named Myka.”

HG couldn’t hide the shock on her face which quickly turned to anger.

“How do you know that name,” her voice was threatening.

“Calm down killer,” he raised his hands, “you left your phone when you went to the ladies. She called.  I saw there were three missed calls and two missed texts. All from the last few days.  You need to learn how to lock your screen, geesh.”

“Sorry.”

“Thank you,” he rolls his shoulders. “So bad break up or stalker?”

“Pardon?”

“This Myka chick? Your ex or crazy town.”

“Neither.”

“Ahh,” he nods, “the one that got away.”

“Yes.”

“Well it seems like she might want to be found with all those missed messages.”

“I don’t think so.”

“But you don’t know so,” he corrected. “You’re sitting here with me instead of your friends while your phone gets blown up by the girl you’re after.  So you’re only brave when lives are involved? Are you in that kind of spy movie?”

“You are insane.”

“But I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Yes.”

He held up his beer, “I told you this was magic.”

“Please stop.”

“Not until you tell me why you’re scared because those guys today scared the crap out of me and you weren’t fazed at all.”

“I have put myself in precarious positions emotionally in the past and things didn’t work out for any of the parties involved. “

“So better to pine away on secret missions and spends nights trolling the internet?” he shook his head. “You seem too cool for that sort of thing.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Who said easy,” he held up his left hand again. “This relationship took years to finally happen. And then in secret because her dad was an ass.  When we got married things were great, until someone we loved died suddenly. It took is some time to sort it all out. But we’re back, better than ever.  The good ones are never easy kid.”

She studied her companion for a moment as he casually finished off his drink.

“You’re right, as always,” she smirked and leaned in, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“It was good to see you again Jay. Fantastic disguise. Thank you.”

“Don’t forget to invite me to the wedding,” he called as she greeting Claudia and Steve at the other end of the bar with a hug.

 

 

One year later Claudia and Steve sat near the front of the reception hall, looking over the surprisingly large crowd.

“Claude, who’s that in the back?” he pointed to a far table with a group of unfamiliar faces that had sat on HG’s side in the church.  “That one woman looks kind of familiar.”

“Which one?”

“The one next to the blonde and Mrs. Fredric.”

“Huh,” Claudia agreed but couldn’t place the face.

“They certainly like to  drink,” Steve observed as another round of beer was delivered to the table.

The music changed as DJ announced the arrival of the bride and bride.

The assembled group clapped and cheered as Myka and HG entered the room.  HG spent about ten seconds at the head table before she was off and heading towards the back corner.

“Definitely HG’s people,” Claudia grinned as the small group roared their approval.

Steve squinted, looking at the woman who held HG’s attention and wondered if she had a brother.


	105. Adagietto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh yeah. You looked so intimidating in your suit blasting Mahler. The wind blowing that gorgeous black hair back. It was like a recruitment poster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part three of three for the mini au found in chapters 91 and 92. Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think.
> 
> Angst ahead.

_When’s the last time you wore your dress whites?_

_Graduation from the Academy, you smiled. I had to order these for the ceremony._

_Pete laughed. Why doesn’t that surprise me?_

 

It had been six years, five major offensives and countless battles of various sizes that had brought you to this point. Almost 80% of the planet was inhabitable but this spot, this inch, could still be livable.

Command had decided that since was the original ground zero that war heroes would be able to use the last bit of available space if they so chose.

After the decades of service it seemed appropriate.

You gingerly stepped out of the transport.  The new leg never had been as sturdy as the old.

 

_How do you do this? McShane, three years out of the Academy had asked on the way to RW63. You were six months into your first command._

_What? You looked up from the suit repair you’d been working on._

_This, he waved his arms in a vague gesture. Don’t you ever get tired of the fight?_

_I’m always tired, you replied, thinking of the last time you’d talked to Mac and how worn he looked._

_A proximity alarm cut off the rest of your response._

You pressed play on the device. The same one that had been in your suit for so many years and had brought you such luck. That had brought you to this place.  Mahler still played in a loop, but you tended to repeat the movements of the Fifth more than any other symphony.

Over the years you’d learn to ignore the murmurs and gasps as you made your want through the gates, waved in by Buck and Jack who knew you from Vega Prime and what you all called the Salad Days.  Yes, you had a reputation thanks to the GRPLR and what had come after.

But that’s not why you were here.

 

_I can’t believe you arranged all this, she smiled._

_Of course, you replied pulling Myka into a leisurely kiss.  You’re worth it._

_A week of leave. I don’t think I’ve had this much time away in years._

_Well it is our honeymoon, you pointed out, pulling her towards the king size bed. It had taken almost every favor owed you and a couple of promises for others to arrange everything.  It’d take years to work of some of the debt._

_But the smile on your wife’s face when you opened the door to the suite was worth it._

 

“I was beginning to wonder if I’d see you,” Will greeted and pulled you down into a hug.

“Of course,” you stepped back but didn’t let go of his hand.  “I spend a lot of time here these days. Thinking mostly.”

“You know what they say about spending too much time in the past,” he chided.

“I know, but sometimes that’s the best part.”

“Sad, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think so.”

 

_What do you want to do when this is all over, Myka asked as she lay in your arms.  The bunk was cramped and Pete’s snoring made it difficult to sleep but you endured._

_You’d never thought about the future. Of what you’d do when the war was over because you never thought it’d be over. Even your creative mind could have never imagined what affect your inventions  would play in the struggle._

_Command was sure that this last planet, the last of the enemy’s fortified bases, would seal their fate and end the conflict. You’d fought your way back to the end of home sector. The original ground zero._

_Something that six years ago wasn’t even imaginable._

_I don’t have any plans other than to spend my time by your side love. You replied honestly._

_I love you, she took your breath away._

Six years, five major offensives and countless battles had been twenty years ago and the happiest time of your life.  The war had ended hours later, your people saved from the brink of extinction, your home sector reclaimed.

“Hello love,” you knelt down, caressing the cool plate with the name of your soul mate lost that day.  “I hope Pete and Josh haven’t been giving you too much trouble,” you glanced over at  the two neighboring plates.

“Or that’s Pete’s snoring hasn’t kept you up,” Will joked as he maneuvered his wheel chair next to you.

Will moved off a short time later to visit others from your squad but you remained with Myka. Reflecting on your time together.

 

_You know I almost didn’t come over and talk to you, Myka admitted after you’d finished the debriefing._

_Really?_

_Oh yeah. You looked so intimidating in your suit blasting Mahler. The wind blowing that gorgeous black hair back. It was like a recruitment poster._

_Stop, you chuckled._

_It was hot!_

_You felt yourself blush. Why did you then?_

_Well I figured you’re only given one little spark of madness so you mustn’t lose it._


	106. They say you won’t be hearing anything you play it that loud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Adorable?” she huffed. “I suppose I can take that. So can I take you?” pause “Home, that is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 of everyone's new favorite, the stripper AU found in chapters 102 and 103 of this never ending madness. 
> 
> Thank you thank you thank you for reading.
> 
> Please please please let me know what you think.

Myka sighed and turned off her phone. She’d lost track of time chatting with Mrs. Fredric’s assistant Claudia about her finals project. (It was weeks off, but she liked to be prepared.) And on almost every Friday since moving to Chicago the fact that she’d stayed late on campus would have only cut into her study or Netflix time.

But not this mild July night, she had a date.

Not a date but plans. Plans with Steve and Liam to go to a party. A party that Helena had asked her about on Tuesday.

 

_“I know,” her father had slurred at her one of the rare nights her timing was off. She had come home from the club right before her dad stumbled in from the bar._

_She forced herself to remain calm. If drunk enough he wouldn’t remember this encounter._

_“I know,” he began again, stumbling a bit into the kitchen.  “That I can trust you.” He paused. “No boys.  You’re no whore like your mother.”_

_Myka swallowed hard.  The dim light hid an outfit that might give her dad second thoughts._

_“You’re going to get out of this shit hole,” he mumbled as he staggered off.   “Just like her.”_

 

She could hear the party well before she reached the house just a few blocks from campus.  The street was packed with cars and bikes locked onto trees and fences. 

Scattered groups of people stood on the front lawn laughing and holding the always reliable red solo cup.  She could hear cheers from inside, meaning a spirited game of beer pong was most likely going on somewhere in the house.

“Hey,” one of the guys on the porch blocked her path.

“Hi,” Myka gave a weak smile.

“Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

“I doubt it,” Myka shrugged. 

“We’re you in Foster’s microbiology class last quarter?”  The man asked his blue eyes boring into hers.

“No, sorry.” She tried to move past him again.

“Wait,” he slid quickly in front of her again. “I never forget a face.”

She could smell the booze on his breath as he leaned closer.  “Especially one as hot as yours.”

Taking a deep breath Myka called up the persona that had severed her well last summer.

“Funny,” she said, leaning in and fiddling with the buttons on his shirt for a moment. “You’re quite forgettable.” She smirked and pushed him out of her way.

Myka couldn’t help but smile as the boy’s friends teased him about being turned down.

“I’ll figure it out hottie,” he called as she entered the crowed house.

 

Myka pushed her way through the kitchen and into the backyard. 

“I was wondering where you were,” Liam pulled her into a half hug.  “You’re just in time to watch Steve and I kick butt in Beer Pong.”

“How many?” Liam asked Steve as he and Myka slid next to the shorter man.

“They are about to win their sixth game in a row.”

The trio watched has HG took her time carefully lining up her shot, bouncing the ping pong ball a few times and then taking aim again.  After a moment she released a smooth arching shot that plopped into the last cup standing of her opponents.

Cheers mixed with groans as HG high fived her partner and roommate Will.  Myka remembered meeting him last week after class. She had been discussing the homework assignment with Helena on the steps of the building when he rolled by on his bike.

Chants of USA USA started as Steve and Liam helped reset the cups for their match.

“Remember Myka, just because you think HG is hot doesn’t mean you cheer for their team,” Liam teased.

Myka gasped as HG looked up at her and smiled.

 

 

“Have Steve and Liam recovered?” Helena asked as she sat down on the cool grass.

“I think so,” Myka nodded to her friends currently making out under a tree across the yard. “How many games did you and Will win?”

“They kicked us off after 12,” Helena leaned back her hands, “I expect nothing less from two engineering majors.”

“So modest.”

“You love it,” Helena teased.

They sat in silence for a moment as the party swirled before them.

“Did you ride here with your friends?” Helena asked.

“What? Um, no. I was running late so I took the bus. And walked.”

“I see,” Helena paused. “Would it be too forward of me to ask for the honor of escorting you home? When you are ready, of course.”

Myka laughed. “Really? What are you, some sort of refugee from the Victorian era?”

“Well, I am English.”

“Yes, you are.” Myka felt the pull of both Helena’s personality and the alcohol as she leaned closer. “And quite adorable.”

“Adorable?” she huffed. “I suppose I can take that. So can I take you?” pause “Home, that is.”

Myka smiled and stood. “First we need to dance. Because this is one of my favorite songs."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pss, playlist update found at http://8tracks.com/mfangeleeta/the-vodka-made-me-do-it


	107. But hold her down with soggy clothes and breezeblocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The Talk?”  
> “You know,” Abigail motioned to Myka and then towards the car. “About you and HG? About her intentions?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been spinning my wheels abit to write something, so have a short featuring HG, Claudia and Pete on a different sort of adventure set in an AU season 4. Rest assured there is more Degenerate, Strippers and Wells and Wolcott on the way in the post Labor Day future.
> 
> Thanks for reading and as always, please feel free to share your thoughts.

 

Pete and Claudia nodded in unison.

“Come on,” Claudia spoke without any preamble.

Myka and Helena looked up from their reading.

“What’s up?” Myka asked, thinking it must be something Warehouse related.

“Not you,” Pete crossed his arms.

“Me?” HG scoffed. “Whatever for?”

“Just come on,” Claudia non-explained.

“Guys,” Myka shook her head. “We’re in the middle of something here.” She held  up the book she was reading. 

HG marked her place carefully. “It’s fine Myka. I’ll be back…”

“Soon,” Pete said and Claudia nodded.

 

 

Myka and Abigail watched from the doorway as Pete, Claudia and HG piled into the future Caretaker’s Prius.

“What was that about?” Myka looked over at the sometime inn keeper.

“I think it’s time for the talk?”

“The Talk?”

“You know,” Abigail motioned to Myka and then towards the car. “About you and HG? About her intentions?”

“What!” Myka’s eyebrows practically flew off her head. “She’s been back for a month. We’re just getting back to the way things were.  How can they think…”

Abigail smirked as Myka trailed off.

 

 

“This isn’t the road to the Warehouse,”  HG pointed out from the passenger’s seat.

“It’s not,” Claudia agrees as she turned left, talking them away from the town.

“We’re going on a drive,” Pete said from the back seat. “You know there’s more room back here than I thought.”

“Told ya,” Claudia crooned.

“Where are we going then?” Helena turned to look both at Pete and Claudia. She has her suspicions but didn’t want to assume.

Steve had explained what happens one day in the aisles what can happen.

But she didn’t know anyone by the name of Xander. (She had yet to work that one out.)

“On a drive,” Pete explains, leaning forward just a bit. “It’s a Sunday afternoon so a perfect time for a cruise.”

“To where?”

“No place in particular,” Pete continued, “though I would be opposed to a frozen custard in Featherhead.”

Claudia rolled her eyes.

“It’s a time to spend catching up,” Claudia added. “Steve and I made it all the way to Cedar Rapids one time.”

“Frozen custard?” Helena couldn’t help herself. She had heard Nate and Adelaide talk about the dessert many times but had never asked.

“Oh yeah,” Pete’s smile grew. “You’ve never tried it?”

“It is one of the many things that happened while I was in the Bronze.”

“Well then we have to try some,” Claudia pressed play on her iPod.

 

 

Myka looked down at her phone and bit her lip. Helena,  Pete and Claudia had been gone for hours. The sun had set and Abigail had even said goodnight without a text or call from the trio.

The three were more than capable Agents with the ability to handle just about any situation.  So she shouldn’t worry.

But Pete tended to put his hand where he shouldn’t and Helena’s curiosity could get the best of her. Claude could hold her own against one of them. But both?

Maybe she should call Helena to make sure they were okay.

Myka was so lost in thought about calling that she missed the sound of a car engine pulling up to the B&B.

But she couldn’t miss the sound of laughter as the front door opened and closed.

“I told ya,” Pete laughed as he spotted Myka sitting on the couch.  “You owe me five bucks.”

“Hey Myka,” Claudia waved. “I don’t remember agreeing to that bet.”

“Claudia is correct,” Myka smiled as Helena followed the bickering Agents in.

“You guys went to Featherhead?”  

“HG here had never had frozen custard,” Pete offered. “So of course we had to go.”

“And the hat?”

“Claudia explained that it was tradition,” Helena adjusted the small triangle hat.

“And adorable,” the red head winked at Myka.

“Well kids it’s been fun but that inventory won’t count itself,” Pete let out a dramatic yawn and stretch.  “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Goodnight,” Myka and Helena called as their friends headed upstairs.

 

“So,” Myka stepped forward and fiddled with Helena’s hat for a moment before moving a safe distance away. “Looks like you had a good time.”

“It was surprisingly enjoyable.  And to their credit it took them some time to build up to the reason for our drive to Featherhead.”

“The Talk,” Myka rolled her eyes. “Abigail told me.”

“It’s not unexpected,” Helena  said, moving closer and into the danger zone. “They are your family. I am a woman of questionable background. Of course they want to make sure I am worthy.”

“Of course you are worthy,” Helena smiled at Myka’s indignation.

“Only if you say so.”

“Come on,” Myka took Helena’s hand. “I believe you owe me a bit of reading.”


	108. Last thing I remember is our beautiful bodies grinding up in the club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We barely know each other. Though a woman who is as well versed in peptide sequences does require more attention than others.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I told Roadie that an update in the Stripper AU probably wouldn't happen this week given all that I have going on. But after the Defiance finale and some of my beloved vodka here we are. A short yet important continuation of that guilty pleasure AU found it chapters 102, 103 and 106. 
> 
> I'm about to enter a work death spiral so no updates for a bit (most likely). Hope everyone has a fun and safe holiday weekend. And as always, please let me know what you think.

One dance.

One dance was all she had mentally agreed to. Because this was a _party_. Just a house party at some random’s house that was a nice summertime diversion.

But HG-no Helena- had been subtly wearing her down these past few weeks. With her knowledge and charm and looks. 

So one dance to Gangrene turned into another to Tupac turned into another by Ghostland Observatory turned into another and then she lost track.  Because Liam brought her another drink and Helena pulled her closer and the night got later.

The makeshift dance floor was full by the time they put on Beyonce.  And Myka had imbibed just enough for things to get…questionable.

 

But Helena was more aware than Myka realized and she managed to pull them off the floor before things got too heated and Facebook/Instagram would reveal the details of what went down. (Because eye witnesses were not reliable.) 

And chivalrous Helena had dragged her though the house, past the blonde guy still on the porch who swore he knew Myka to Helena’s older yet expensive foreign import car and they were off.

 

“What is your address,” Helena asked as they sped through the Chicago night.

“Do you really want to go home?”

Helena took a long while before she replied. “No. But it’s for the best.”

“Why is that?”

“You’ve been drinking,” HG’s profile was even more striking in the half light provided by the street lights. “And I don’t have the best…intentions…where you’re concerned.”

Myka laughed at that.

“I know. I’ve known for a year.”

“And.”

“I don’t care,” Myka smiled, pushing her past out of the way. Pushing who she’d been for 10 months and what she’d done during that time.  Work was what she did, not who she was.

As for the rest…tonight wasn’t the time for that.

“Let’s go somewhere. I want to see the sunrise with you.”

“Okay,” Helena slowed the car as they hit a red light. “Where?”

“Boys Town?”

“Where exactly?”

“Pick a place. I don’t care.”

 

And a more sober yet still intoxicated Myka found herself on a real dance floor at 2:54am performing moves that she might have charged for in a past life.

But this was Berlin and no one noticed. She was a woman after all.

And Helena, glorious Helena, had been with her all the way.

 

“Thank you,” Helena whispered as they say on a lonely park bench facing Lake Michigan. The sun was slowly rising, casting its orange rays across the dark waters of a somewhat calm lake.

“This evening has been,” Helena swallowed as Myka, sober for hours, leaned deeper into the other woman’s chest, “marvelous.”

Myka sighed her agreement. It was Sunday. The day of rest and she felt a feeling of contentment that had eluded her for much of her young life.

“I should thank you,” Myka began some time later. The sun was higher in the sky, more yellow than orange but not quite at its full strength. “I didn’t think this kind of night was possible. That you were possible.”

“We barely know each other. Though a woman who is as well versed in peptide sequences does require more attention than others.”

“I hope so.” Myka turned slightly so she could meet Helena’s eyes.

And for an endless glorious moment Myka feels Helena’s lips on hers.

“That was…”Helena pulls back.

“Yes,” Myka replies.

But the sun continued to rise and the light goes from gold to white. And Myka’s phone suddenly vibrates with messages from Steve and soon after Pete.

Helena’s mobile follows suit with a text from Will and from the party’s host, a grad student known only as AK.

The real world, such as it is, intrudes rather quickly and by 8am Myka finds herself sharing a heated embrace with Helena outside her dorm.

It’s a moment that will be burned in her memory for years to come.

And one that she will work hard to forget.


	109. Sock it to summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So just before dawn on Sunday they all piled into Myka’s Highlander, making a pit stop in Univille for much needed coffee and an extra bottle of sunscreen for Steve’s pale complexion. Morning person Myka enjoyed the mostly quiet ride out to the lake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow I found myself writing something over the weekend. I'm still recovering from an incredibly busy six day stretch at work. So here's something also set in the Season 4 AU found in chapter 107. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and please let me know what you guys think.

It was two hours to Lake Thompson but Claudia was determined to spend at least one day this summer at the beach. Even if that was at a lake in the middle of South Dakota. She had wanted to use the team’s airline miles to fly them somewhere nicer for Labor Day but Artie had killed that idea.

_“There will be a ping,” he’d insisted._

_“You don’t know that,” Claudia huffed._

_“You can have the weekend off but no leaving South Dakota.”_

So a day on the questionable shores of Lake Thompson it was. Steve, the person who had mentioned the beach back in March, was in right away.  As was Pete who thought he’d stand a better chance with some “out of town honeys”

Abigail had decided to take a few days away to visit one of her college friends in Minneapolis. He had an extra pass to secret show at Paisley Park. (Claudia found herself insanely jealous since she had been away learning caretaker stuff when Steve and HG snagged that Prince artifact and met his royal purpleness in the flesh).

_“Quite rude,” HG had frowned when describing the encounter. “And short.”_

Claudia had been surprised when Myka had said yes to coming to the beach with the boys. She’d figured the senior Agent would want to spend some time with her favorite Victorian. But then she remembered HG had left on Thursday for a meeting with the Regents.

 

So just before dawn on Sunday they all piled into Myka’s Highlander, making a pit stop in Univille for much needed coffee and an extra bottle of sunscreen for Steve’s pale complexion.  Morning person Myka enjoyed the mostly quiet ride out to the lake.

Despite their early start the team found themselves in a good sized line of cars waiting to get into the beach area.

“Are we there yet?” Pete whined from the back seat.

“Are you 12,” Claudia rolled her eyes at her fellow back seat companion. “Wait, look who I’m asking.”

“Looks like everyone had the same idea as us,” Steve leaned out the open window.  “This line isn’t going anywhere. I wonder if the beach is full?”

“I hope not.  I need my ‘it might be a lake but it’s still a beach’ time.”

Myka chuckled at Claudia’s phrasing. “I’m sure we’ll get in. This beach area can hold quite a bit of people.”

After fifteen minutes of creeping forward Myka pulled next to the Park Ranger managing traffic.

“Is this your vehicle?” the Ranger asked.

“It is. Why does that matter?”

“Hold on.”  Myka frowned as the man stepped away and spoke into his walkie talkie.

“What’s going on?” Pete leaned forward.

“Beats me,” Myka replied.

“You’re Myka Bering?” the Park Ranger asked.

“Damn it,” Claudia cursed. “Artie was right.

“I am. What’s this about?”

“This is for you. Please read its contents before proceeding.” He handed over a sealed white envelope. “Pull aside so you don’t block traffic.”

 

Myka maneuvered the vehicle out of the way and the team got out to stretch their legs while she opened the envelope.

“Is it from Artie,” Pete asked. “Beach day over?”

“No,” Myka’s eyebrows scrunched together.  “It’s an address. Claudia can you,” she handed over the folded piece of paper.

“On it,” the red head pulled out her phone and had the directions in seconds.

“Map doesn’t show anything other than the edge of the lake. No housing or parks or anything.”

“Warehouse related?” Steve asked.

“I’m not getting vibeage either way,” Pete offered. “It’s your call Mykes.”

“Let’s check it out then. If its artifact related then we need to take care of it.”

“And if it’s not?” Claudia asked as they piled into the car.

“What else could it be?” Steve asked.

“See if you can find anything else on that address,” Myka asked. “As much as you can at least on your phone.”

“And the rest, we’ll just have to see what happens.”

The group was mostly silent as they followed Claudia’s directions to the address found in the envelop.

“I’m sorry Mykes,” the red head looked up from her phone, “all I can see is the surface information.  There’s a structure there of some sort, recently built. And they property is owned by some company called ANP Enterprises.  I can’t get too deep into their history with this spotty reception.”

“It’s okay,” Myka turned slowly into the semi hidden driveway and stopped. Large trees blocked the view past a few feet on either side. “Pete?”

“Vibe free.”

“Everyone just keep their eyes open.” Myka stepped on the gas.

 

“Well if anything,” Steve said as he stepped out of the SUV about ten minutes later. “Whoever owns this has great taste.”

“Agreed,” Claudia stepped next to her friend. “This house looks awesome.”

“Small mansion is more like it,” Pete grinned. 

Myka couldn’t help but agree. It was obvious the company behind this house had put great care into blending the home with its natural setting while remaining modern. Large bay windows on the first floor revealed a comfortable looking interior and a clear view to the lake. Myka could make out a small dock complete with boat behind the house.

“It looks empty.” Claudia pointed out.

“Well let’s find out,” Pete led the way as the quartet walked up to the front door and knocked. After a moment he opened the door.

Pete let out a low whistle. The interior was even nicer than they thought.

“Hello,” Myka called out. “Anyone home?”

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Steve pointed at the stairs. “Claude let’s check the second floor.”

“On it.”

Pete and Myka swept the first floor.

 

“Pete,” Myka hissed as her partner open the fridge and grabbed a soda.  “What are you doing?”

“What, I’m thirsty.” He popped the top. “There’s no one in here.  How about we call Artie and see if he knows anything?”

“Okay. I’m going to check out back.”

 

The Agent was about 10 feet from the house when she stopped and smiled. 

“You,” she shook her head as she knelt down next to Helena, sunning herself in a dark blue bikini.

“Hello darling,” Helena sat up and gave Myka a kiss. “It looks like you got my message.”

“I’ll say.  Is this where you met with the Regents?”

“It is actually,” Helena sat up a bit more and pulled Myka down next to her. “They left late last night. They’ve made me a rather surprising offer.”

“You’re not leaving again?” Myka felt her heart race.

“Never,” Helena squeezed her hand. “They’ve asked me to be a Regent.”

“Wow,” Myka swallowed. “What did you say?”

“I told them I’d have to talk to you first.”

“Hey Mykes,” Pete’s voice in the distance broke the moment. “Artie says that he found out who owns this house.  You’ll never guess.”

Myka leaned in for a quick kiss and stood. “Over here.”

Pete jogged down the small hill towards the water.

“Hey HG,” he greeted, not at all surprised to see the other woman now standing next to his partner. “Great house you have here.”

“This is your house?” Myka whirled around, eyes wide.

“A vacation home of sorts,” HG explained.

“Well it’s awesome.  Steve and Claudia are unloading the car. Can we take the boat out later?”

“Of course,” she looked over at Myka. “I wanted it to be a surprise. Something we could use to get away from the Bed and Breakfast from time to time.”

“Thank you,” Myka was still a bit overwhelmed but she understood where Helena was coming form. “Your house is pretty awesome.”


	110. Ah but now you’re here can’t believe that you’re back again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Me too,” Pete nodded. “Mykes needs something good in her life.”  
> “Ten bucks says the boss is the first to drop the L bomb,” Claudia looked over at the men.  
> “Make it twenty,” Josh smirked.  
> “I’m in,” Pete grinned, “but Myka says it first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The struggle is real right now with my ongoing things so here's a one shot sort of set in the Pulp Fictions verse. Not so much the movie but the world of hitmen and cleaners and meeting someone special in the most sordid of places.

“And so we meet again,” the cleaner quirked an eyebrow. 

“Yeah,” she sighed. “I know. He just can’t control himself sometimes.” Myka pointed to her partner, on the phone with their boss explaining how things went sideways so fast.

“I’ve done a bit of research,” she snapped on her gloves. “So many years spent with a perfect track record. Then after El Segundo 17 months ago, six separate calls.”

She quirked an eyebrow and began her task helped by the brother/sister team known as The Pair. 

Myka blew a stray curl out of her eyes as she watched the dark haired woman work.  The cleaner, known as The Brit had been around for almost as long as her.  The top in her field at taking care of hits that got a bit messy, Myka had never needed her services really.

But then Pete had lost his temper and she’d been called.

 

And Myka felt something she hadn’t for quite some time.

 

“I wonder,” The Brit-Helena (she’d learned six months ago) - asked as she secured her rubber apron, “why the sudden decrease in efficiency.”

“What?” Myka had been drifting for a moment, her focus on the other woman’s hands distracting her from the situation at hand.

“You,” Helena quirked an eyebrow and pulled out a bone saw. “The Brain, known for such precision all these years.  Six calls in unprecedented in your history.”

“You’ve been researching me?” Myka felt a bit of a rush at the thought.

“Just curious.”

The bone saw drowned out conversation for a moment.  The Pair, Claudia and Joshua, carefully collected the body parts and bagged them.  Making sure to contain the spray on the plastic drop cloth Helena had spread over most of the living room.

 

“Hey,” Pete, her partner for the last six years waived her over.

“What’s up?”

“Artie’s not happy we had to call her, again,” he rolled his eyes.

“We needed her,” Myka stage whispered.

“Did we? Seemed like this could have been a pretty clean hit.”

“But it wasn’t.”

Pete squinted his eyes for a moment, looking at Myka carefully.

“You know,” he finally said with a smirk, “you could just ask her out.”

“WHAT!?”

“Oh yeah,” he chuckled, trying desperately to ignore the saw 10 feet away. “Ever since you guys chatted over that target’s book collection, you’ve had the hots for The Brit.”

“She and I liked the same authors,” Myka protested. Not that she and Helena had been emailing commentary on several books for the past few months.

“And that job in El Paso? We so could have handled that clean up but you knew she was in the area so you called.”

“She the top of her field,” Myka replied, knowing Pete was right. “And she was available.”

“And don’t get me started about today,” Pete shook his head.

“I tripped!”

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes. “Just go for it already.”

The sound of the bone saw turning off brought a sudden silence to the room.

“I’ve got your back,” Pete took Myka by the shoulders. “I think she’s into you. Plus you two together,” he grinned, “so freaking hot.”

“Shut up,” Myka smiled and punched him in the arm. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“You first.”

 

“All done?” Myka asked as Helena handed over the last bit to her assistants.

“Yes. Other than the cleanup of course,” she nodded at Joshua who took the last of the body parts out to the car. “You don’t have to linger. We have the situation under control.”

“Oh I know you do,” Myka paused, fumbling for a moment.

Helena snapped off her gloves, taking a moment to adjust her long dark hair tied in a neat pony tail.

“Well then,” Helena smiled. “Until next time I suppose. If there is a next time.”

Myka nodded and turned, taking two steps away before turning around.

“Would you like to have dinner?” she asked.

“Dinner?”

“Yes. Dinner and maybe a movie? Or something?”

“As in a date?” Helena’s eyebrows rose.

“Yes. A date. If you’re not seeing anyone.”

“I am not,” Helena moved off the tarp and into Myka’s personal space. “A date as in friendly coworkers spending time together or one of a romantic nature?”

“Option 2. Hopefully,” Myka smiled.

“Agreed,” Helena returned the smile and pulled a plastic card from her shirt pocket. “Here is my direct line. Call me with the details and I will make sure I am available.”

“Great.”

 

Pete, Claudia and Joshua stood in the kitchen, discreetly listening in.

“Finally,” Claudia sighed in relief.

“Really?” Pete asked.

“Oh yeah,” Joshua nodded. “HG has got it bad. Ever since that El Segundo job.”

“Yep,” Pete nodded. “The hit it off like a house on fire.”

The Pair looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“It’s a saying.”

“I hope things work out,” Claudia poked her head around the corner, smiling at her boss' shameless flirting with the hit woman.

“Me too,” Pete nodded.  “Mykes needs something good in her life.”

“Ten bucks says the boss is the first to drop the L bomb,” Claudia looked over at the men.

“Make it twenty,” Josh smirked.

“I’m  in,” Pete grinned, “but Myka says it first.”


	111. What if I never see you cuz were both on a stage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There’s a showing of Pal’s version of The Time Machine down at the Logan Theater. Have you seen it?”  
> “No,” Myka shook her head. She had seen Helena twice for class, three times for lunch and once for a somewhat heavy make out session in the library since the party the past weekend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And after much fussing/rewriting I give you an update to the Stripper AU. 
> 
> Not so much with the sexy times in this but some more backstory and world building. Remember it's always darkest before the dawn. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think.

_“So what are ya thinking Mykes?” Pete held up three acceptance letters. She had brought her best friend lunch while he was on a break at Artie’s Body Shop._

_“Early acceptance is great,” Myka poked at her salad. “But where am I going to get the money to go to any of those places?”_

_“You’ve got to qualify for some scholarships.”_

_“I’ve checked and I do but it’s not enough. Chicago. Boston.  Stanford. Those places aren’t cheap to live in Pete.”_

_“We’ll we’ve got some time. You can work part time during school.”_

_“What I’d make at Wal-Mart isn’t enough,” Myka frowned.  She was so close to escaping._

_“Well,” Pete leaned in. “I might have another idea. You’ll make a lot of money. My sister did it for a while to pay for nursing school.”_

_“At this point I’m open to just about anything.”_

 

“So I was wondering,” Helena had invaded Myka’s personal space as they stood on the building’s steps.  “If you were free this Friday evening?  There’s a showing of Pal’s version of The Time Machine down at the Logan Theater.  Have you seen it?”

“No,” Myka shook her head. She had seen Helena twice for class, three times for lunch and once for a somewhat heavy make out session in the library since the party the past weekend.

“Splendid.” Helena beamed. “Pick you up around 6:30 then?”

Myka smiled and pulled Helena in for a brief kiss.

“Call me later?”

“Of course,” Helena leaned in for another kiss before stepping of the ledge and heading towards her next class.

Myka was smiling when she felt her phone buzz. When she looked at the caller her face fell.

Taking a deep breath she hit answer.  “Hi Dad.”

 

_“Don’t think I don’t know,” her father slurred at her angrily. He had come home from the bar early that night. She had made the mistake of coming home after him. Luckily she’d been over at Amanda’s studying and not working that night._

_“What do you know Dad?”_

_“The school called,” Myka swallowed. “They told me about the colleges and the scholarships.”_

_“And?”_

_“You think you’re too good for everything. You think you’re more than the white trash you are. Let me tell you missy you’ll never be more that what you are now.”_

_“Dad you’re drunk. Go to bed.”_

_“Don’t you sass me,” he yelled swaying dangerously close to her. Myka flinched back.  “You’re just like your mother. Looking down on us, us normal folk. You’ll be back.”_

_“I doubt that.” She pushed past him._

_“Don’t kid yourself Myka. You’ll be back here within six months.”_

 

“Hello darling,” Myka could picture Helena’s smiling face on the other end of the phone.

“Hey,” Myka paused.  “I’m so sorry to do this but I have to cancel on Friday. My Dad’s going to be in town.”

“Your father?” Helena was surprised. They hadn’t talked much about their families but it wasn’t hard to guess that Myka did not care for hers.

“Yeah I know,” Myka took a deep breath. “Crazy right? He just calls out of the blue saying he’s going to be in Chicago this weekend and wants to see me.”

“Are you all right with that?”

“He’s my dad,” Myka felt herself breaking a bit.

“Would you like me to swing by your dorm before I leave campus for the day?”

“You don’t have to do that,” Myka back peddled.

“Nonsense. I’ll be there shortly.”

 

_July 4 th weekend had been its own special hell at the club, with revelers in from out of town and a bevy of interns from Turner Broadcasting on a field trip to the other side of the tracks.  The veteran dancers had warned her not to walk to her car by herself and don’t visit the champagne room without one of the bouncers to stand guard._

_It was a nerve racking four days but she’d done well. The elusive Agent managed to pull them in._

_Especially the interns._

_“Hey hottie,” she ignored the calls. But then the blonde boy and his friends had flashed some cash._

_And she was still short of her goal, so Myka ignored her gut and moved to the darker side of the club._

_She allowed the blonde guy to slip the twenty into her g-string._

_“Why don’t you come party with my friends and I tonight,” he asked, leaning up on the stage._

_“I don’t do private parties,” Myka smiled and stood up and moved to another man in the group waving money._

_“Hey,” the blonde guy followed her over. “We’ll pay. Come on. Don’t be that way.”_

_She took the money from his hand this time, stepping back from the edge. “Sorry honey. There are some other girls who might be interested.”_

_“I don’t want any of those other sluts,” he growled out, lunging at her.  “I want you.”_

_Two of the bouncers were there in seconds yanking the man down and towards the door._

_She’d been propositioned before. And had to have the bouncers intervene before._

_But the rage in the blonde guys eyes had shook her._

_It reminded her of her dad._

 

 

Friday night found Myka sitting a small off campus diner next to Helena and Steve as they waited for her father to arrive.  Helena had spent the night in her dorm room on Thursday, listening as Myka painted a not too pretty picture of her home life in Atlanta.

After that, Helena had insisted on accompanying Myka to meet her father. And brining Steve along for muscle.

The door open and Myka tensed.

“Hey dad,” she stood as Warren Bering made his way across the restaurant.

After a stiff hug and introductions they were seated again.

Awkward small talk followed.  How they’d all met. How they liked Chicago. How things were in Atlanta. Yes school was fine.

Helena and Steve, seeing that Myka would be okay, moved off for a bit with excuses of returning texts and restroom visits to give the father and daughter a moment alone.

“Why are you here dad?” Myka asked, tired of the small talk. “How did you even get the money to come up here?”

“How doesn’t matter. I’m here because I’ve heard from your mother.”

“What,” Myka whispered.

“Out of the blue she calls,” he ground his teeth. “No apologies, no how are you, she wants to know about you. Where you are. I told her to go to hell.”

“You had no right.” Myka growled out. 

“She left you. Left us,” her dad’s eyes were hard. “How can you want to talk to that bitch?”

“She’s my mother,” Myka spat. “I want to know why.”

“Well you’ll get your wish then,” the anger that had swelled so quickly drained just as fast. “She lives in Milwaukee. Here’s the address.”

Myka watched wide eyes as her father pulled out a piece of paper from his wallet.  “She gave me her address and phone number.”

“Why did you come up here to give me this?”

“Can’t a father want to see his own daughter?”

 

Myka snuggled deeper into Helena’s arms as the pair relaxed on the older woman’s couch, not really watching the reruns of The Golden Girls playing on TV Land. 

“My mom,” Myka whispered. 

“I know,” Helena sighed as she ran her hand gently through Myka’s curls.  “The only way to know for sure is to call her.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“Well you don’t have to decide tonight.”

The jingle of a key in a lock and muffled voices caused the pair to move apart on the couch. Will was home and had brought company.

“Hello ladies,” a slightly inebriated Will called from the door. “Hope everyone’s decent.”

“Wolly please,” Helena rolled her eyes.

“Sam, Jack,” Will waved towards his friends. “This is my roommate Helena and her girlfriend Myka.”  He moved into the kitchen and opened the fridge. “Beer anyone?”

“Hey, I know you.”

Myka recognized the blonde guy from the porch. 

“From the party,” Myka sat up further. “Sam right?”

“Yeah,” he paused for a moment. “But I know you from before. From last summer.”

Myka paled. Helena gripped her hand tighter.

“Yeah,” he grinned darkly. “You’re that dancer from the strip club.”


	112. At each point of intersection, each encounter suggests a new potential direction.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “That again?” You quirk an eyebrow, looking at your grandchild and her friends, “surely there is something else you’d rather hear.”  
> “Nope,” your granddaughter gives a vigorous shake of her head, causing her thick dark mane of hair to fly all directions. “It’s our favorite.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So having some serious "The ink in which our lives are inscribed is indelible" feels tonight. But this tale falls out of the scope of the reincarnation story brought on by Cloud Atlas so I'm posting it as part of Vodka. Thanks for reading and as always, please let me know what you think.
> 
> Check out that completed tale at http://archiveofourown.org/works/1024227/chapters/2038534

“This planet,” she pauses and looks back at you, green eyes full of sadness, “it’s dying. We don’t have much time. Maybe 50 years. Our only hope is to reach those who left before.”

“Can they save us?”

“Maybe,” she returns to her work, the dusty panel slowly but surely coming to life. “If we can get a message we can save your people and mine. Get everyone away before the true death comes.”

You stand back, watching her work as she brings the ancient equipment to life.  Ignoring the whispers of doubt, of deceit, of Old Freddy whispering in your ear about what the truth really was.  

But Old Freddy had taken your brother when the Kona Chief had made him a feast for his people eight summers ago. And taken your Christina five summers ago when she’d been stung out on the reef.

You turned away from Old Freddy. That way only brought pain.

Blue light filled the room as the woman from across the sea, Myka, sent the transmission.

“So that’s it?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “When they come, anyone who wants to join us can.”

“My life is in the valley,” you hear yourself say.

“Okay,” she nods.

 

“Grandma,” small hands clutch at your trousers as you settle down next to the fire. “We want to hear a story.”

“Which one,” you smile, glancing at your wife of nearly 60 years as she stands on the steps of your home. The second sun is about to set and you can’t help but gasp at her endless beauty, green eyes still as clear and knowing as they were the day you first met.

“What sort of story little one?”

“Of how you and Grammy met on Earth.”

“That again?” You quirk an eyebrow, looking at your grandchild and her friends, “surely there is something else you’d rather hear.”

“Nope,” your granddaughter gives a vigorous shake of her head, causing her thick dark mane of hair to fly all directions.  “It’s our favorite.”

“Very well,” you dramatically sigh.

Forty five minutes later your son  has arrived to collect your grandchild and her friends. You can’t help but smile as he stands next to his mother while you complete the tale.

“Alright kids,” his calm voice carries over the groans of your audience, “It’s time to go home. Granny will be here tomorrow to tell you more stories.”

Calls of goodbye waft through the evening as small figures make their way to the collection of homes you call your village.

“Your stories get better with age,” she pulls you close.

“As do you,” you lean up the scant inches that separate you for a kiss.

“Charmer,” she grins.

“Always.”


	113. Please, give me something to convince me that I am not a monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How’s Helena?”  
> “Missing you,” Will sighed. “Did you break up with her?”  
> “I’m,” Myka paused. “I don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know I should always chat with Roadie when I'm in a slump because one or two email exchanges and suddenly here's an update to the fan favorite Stripper AU. Not to mention work is well, not quite as big a nightmare now and oh there's that Ebola case in the city where I live. Plus you need to not sleep on Banks' Goddess album.
> 
> So yeah, a lot is happening and here's an update. The mini is found in chapters 102, 103, 106, 108 and 111.

“I believe you’re mistaken,” Helena stood and put herself between Sam and Myka. “And drunk.”

“Naw,” Sam swayed forward. “I told you,” he pointed at Myka, frozen on the couch. “I told you I never forget a face hottie. Plus,” he sneered. “You turned me down.”

“I can’t imagine why,” HG crossed her arms.

“Listen you dyke bitch,” Sam moved around the couch as Myka sprang up behind HG, trying to pull her back and out of the room. “I remember your girlfriend because she got me kicked out of that trash strip club.”

Will, recognizing the look in his room mate’s eyes, pulled Sam back roughly by the arm.

“Time to go buddy.”

“What the fuck,” Sam tried to squirm away but Jack joined with Will to shove him out the door.

“I’ll make sure he gets home,” Jack said to Will. “Sorry HG. Sorry Myka.”

 

For an endless moment the apartment was filled with an awkward silence. HG was livid.

“How could you,” she growled out at her best friend.

“Helena, I didn’t know. I ran into Jack at the bar and he was with his friend from the Frat. I had no idea that he,” Will swallowed. “I mean, is what he said true?”

“How could you even think…”

“Don’t,” Myka’s ragged voice stopped HG’s rant. “Don’t lie on my behalf.” She moved around HG. “It’s true.  I worked at a strip club last year to help pay to get into college.”

“Oh,” Will nodded slowly. “That’s cool.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” HG hissed.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it Helena. I don’t care what Myka did before.”

“But others will care,” Myka moved around HG to grab her coat from a nearby chair. “I really need to go.”

“Stay darling,” HG reached out but Myka skirted the touch.

“No, I need to get back to campus.” She gathered her things, not looking at either of the Brits.

“At least let me drive you,” HG tried again, “It’s late.”

“I’m fine. Really.”

“I doubt that,” Will murmured.

“Not helping,” HG shot him a pointed look. “Myka I insist.”

“Fine.”

 

The fifteen minute care ride was silent, HG giving up on the radio not long after they’d left her apartment.

Before she realized it, they were in front of Myka’s dorm.

“Would you like me to come it?”

“No Helena,” Myka continued to look down. “I need some time to process this.”

“Okay.”  Helena reached over and covered Myka’s clenched hands with her own. “But I want you to understand that this changes nothing between us.  It doesn’t matter what you used to do. That’s not who you are.”

“Are you so sure about that?” Myka’s voice was bitter. “You yourself found me in the club. Would you have even noticed me in class if it wasn’t because of last summer?”

Before HG could reply Myka jerked her hands out of Helena’s and fled into the dorm.

“How could I not notice you,” HG said to the air. “I love you.”

 

There were two and a half weeks left in the summer session which gave Myka the perfect excuse to avoid HG. School always came first and it was (mostly) easy for Myka to slip back into the existence she had spent most of her first year cultivating.

Dorm to class to library to class to dorm. 

Do not collect $200 when you pass Go.

Steve and Liam, hearing what had happened from  their friend AK (Myka didn’t want to think about what that meant) tried to console her.

But seeing them together only made it worse. So she slowly shut them out too.

 

“Mykes I’m worried about you,” Pete’s voice sounded far away through the speaker of her phone.

“I’m good.”

“I don’t think so. You haven’t talked about Steve and Liam in a while. And it’s been even longer since you talked about your British babe. Did you guys break up?”

(Good question.)

“I’m just busy with finals.”

“Really.”

Myka could practically hear the wheels turning in Pete’s brain over the phone.

“You know you can tell me anything right?” Pete said after a long silence.  

Myka sighed as the emotions that had been simmering since that night at Helena’s place threatened to boil over.

“I promise Pete.” She coughed to cover her voice cracking. “When this quarter is over I’ll tell you everything.”

“Okay.”

 

_“How you holding up kid?”_

_“I’m fine,” Myka combed through her hair, teasing it up more like Leena had suggested. She’d been dancing for about a week at The Warehouse._

_Leena had called her ‘a natural’. She didn’t quite know how to feel about that._

_“It’s not what I expected.”_

_“It never is,” Theo replied. “Too many of these girls think its like Showgirls or Striptease. God,” she laughed. “Have you seen those movies?”_

_Myka shook her head no._

_“Don’t. They’re a joke. Especially Showgirls.”_

_“Okay,” Myka replies._

_Theo sighed. “Those movies. They give people the wrong ideas. About who we are as people, ya know?”_

_Leena called Myka’s name before she could reply. It’s her turn on the stage._

 

Myka was so focused on escaping the sad eyes of HG after class that she didn’t notice where she was going until she bounced off of  Sam and his Frat buddies outside her building.

“Well, look who it is?” Sam sneered. “Our little slut. I’ve got  a few dollars. How about a quick dance?”

Sam’s friends erupted into jeers and laughter.

“Should have known,” a crisp British voice cut off the laugher. “The only way you could get it would be to pay Sam.”

“Hey,” Sam spun to face Will. “You got a problem?”

“You. Come on Myka,”  Will nodded and Myka followed.

“Thanks,” Myka offered. “For back there.”

“Sam’s a dick. I’m sorry for ever brining him over.”

“How’s Helena?”

“Missing you,” Will sighed. “Did you break up with her?”

“I’m,” Myka paused. “I don’t know.”


	114. I’ve been living on roof made from sin, upward and outward “begin begin”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’ve done a man’s job,” Wolcott called, leaning heaving on his cane as the rain continued to fall. “I suppose this is it then?”  
> “Finished,” HG called out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had snippets of ideas for a Blade Runner AU running through my head for nearly a year. Finally one that sort of makes sense that I could jot down. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and please share your thoughts.

The never ending rain poured down on HG as she clung to life on the exposed girder, her hands slowly slipping off of the sides.  The thought flashed through her mind that at one time in never rained in Los Angles but that was over a hundred years ago and the humanity wasn’t on its last legs.

She readjusted her grip and tried to pull herself up but after the fight with the replicant she was exhausted.  Steve had stalked her well, allowing the former detective to drain her strength on the brute Smoller, the assassin Leena and the pleasure model Abby.

Of course the leader Steve had planned it that way.  HG mused as she felt her hands slip for the final time why these replicants would ever come to Earth? She knew that Tyrell would never grant them the extended life they wanted.

Four years was all they would ever know.

 

Steve easily leaped over the expanse between buildings, watching HG struggle on the beam. His bright blue eyes meeting hers.

“It’s quite the thing,” he spoke, “to live in fear isn’t it?”

HG gasped and swayed, fighting to hold on.

Steve shook his head, “That’s what it’s like to be a slave.” He smirked and HG looked up, her hands loosing purchase on the metal.

Faster than she could see Steve shot his hand out and caught the detective by the wrist, a full smile on his face as he pulled her up and tossed her against a wall like a limp doll.

She slumped their gasping in shock as the replicant sat down across from her, the rain dripping off his head.

“I’ve seen things,” Steve began, “things you people could never believe.  Attack ships on fire on the rim of Andromeda Prime,” he paused, “the sparkle of sea beams across the oceans of Zamin.” He gave HG a sad smirk, “all those moments…lost. Like tears in the rain.”

HG watched in stunned silence as the rain continued to fall.

“Time,” Steve gave a sad smile. “Time to die.”

 

Over the sound of the rain and the whirring of the police vehicles HG made out the tell tale step-scrape of her former partner, Wolcott.

“You’ve done a man’s job,” Wolcott called, leaning heaving on his cane as the rain continued to fall. “I suppose this is it then?”

“Finished,” HG called out.

Wolcott reached into the pocked of his trench coat and tossed over her gun. He turned to head back to the police wagon.

“It’s a shame,” he called. “That she won’t live. But then again,” he paused and looked back, “nobody does.”

 

 

HG crept into her apartment, gun clutched tightly in her hand.  Scanning the cramped space it looked as if no one had visited since she’d left but she wasn’t sure.

After taking out the replicants she wasn’t sure of much of anything anymore.

Quietly she crept over to the bed, hoping that the slumbering form she had left hours ago was still there.

Slowly she pulled back the sheet to reveal a mass of curly brown hair.

She leaned down and placed a kiss on her lover’s forehead.

“Hey,” sleepy green eyes opened.

HG leaned down and gave Myka a proper kiss.

“Do you love me?” HG asked.

“Of course,” Myka smiled.

“Do you trust me?”

“With my life.”

 

HG smiled as she clutched Myka’s hand as they spend along the mountain round far away from the city. They might not have much time together but they were going to make the most of it.


	115. You’re professional, won’t treat it like its personal, no this is just love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Thanks,” Myka blushed a bit as she pulled her shirt back on and hopped down from the stage.  
> “You’re hired,” Leena beamed. “It’s been a long time since we’ve had someone like you dance in the club.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the other thing I've been working on for a bit, an update to the Stripper AU mini found in chapters 102, 103, 106, 108, 111 and 113. (Thought the somewhat questionable nature of this has been downplayed for the last few chapters). There is a bit of violence against women in this update so if you have any difficulties I'd skip this chapter. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and please let me know what you think.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Steve asked as he stood next to the apartment door.  “We can go visit my parents at the quarter break.”

“I’m fine,” Myka nodded. She’d managed to reconcile with Steve and Liam in time to have a place to stay during the break between summer and fall sessions.  The boys were going to Steve’s parents place in Michigan for three weeks. Myka was avoiding going home by watching their apartment.

“Don’t forget Pete will be here in a couple of days to keep me company.”

“Well if you need us,” Liam joined his boyfriend at the door. “We’re a call and five hour car ride away.  I hear HG is staying in town also so…”

“I know,” Myka bit her lip and looked away. “Wolly told me a couple of weeks ago.”

She exchanged tight hugs with both of the men before they left. 

Finals were over. School was on hiatus for a month.

So were the distractions and excuses.

 

_“So Jeannie told me you’re saving up for school,” Leena said as they walked into the empty bar. The lights were up and the cleaning crew was getting the room ready for tonight’s customers._

_“Yeah” Myka looked up at the stage. “Hopefully Northwestern.”_

_“You’ve got to be pretty smart to get into a place like that,” Leena observed.  “Not making enough at Wal-mart to cover that bill?”_

_“Not even close. I want to start in the fall. I’m tired of waiting around here.”_

_“Buck,” Leena called out._

_The house lights dimmed and the stage lights came on._

_Myka swallowed.  Pete’s idea was great in theory but now when she had to carry it out in practice._

_“So let’s see what you got,” Leena gestured to the stage._

_“Now?”_

_“It’s just me and the crew,” Leena looked over at the few folks now seated at tables.  “If you can’t dance for us then you can’t dance for the customers.”_

_“Okay.”_

_She didn’t move._

_“Honey,” Leena chuckled. “If you can’t do this…”_

_“Give me a moment,” Myka said softly, needing time to think. She pulled out her phone and pulled up her Spotify._

_“Does your DJ have this song?”_

_“Of course,” Leena smiled, “all the girls love The Weeknd”.  The manager walked over to the booth as Myka ascended to the stage._

_Leena watched from the floor with a smirk. Jeannie was right. There was something about Myka._

_“That’s enough,” she called._

_The music stopped and the lights came back on. The cleaning crew groaned and got up from the tables to complete their work._

_“Nice job,” one man called._

_“That was hot,” another said._

_“Yeah it was,” a woman echoed._

_“Thanks,” Myka blushed a bit as she pulled her shirt back on and hopped down from the stage._

_“You’re hired,” Leena beamed.  “It’s been a long time since we’ve had someone like you dance in the club.”_

_“Someone new?”_

_Leena chuckled. “Someone like you,” she looked her up at down. “You don’t even see it do you?”_

_“See what?”_

_“Come on,” Leena took her by the arm. “Let’s get the paperwork filled out and come up with your stage name.”_

 

 

“Damn it,” Myka slammed the fridge shut.  She was out of milk. Looking at her watch she realized that the closest place still open was the 7-Eleven down the street.  After a moment of thought she slipped on her jeans, grabbed her keys and mace and head out the door.

After a 10 minute walk Myka stood in front of the pathetic milk selection debating on what to get. She’d go to the store two stops away on the bus tomorrow but she needed something tonight.

“Well look who it is.”

Myka cringed at the sound of Sam’s voice. She quickly opened the glass door and grabbed the closest bottle.

“Excuse me,” she grunted, pushing past Sam.

 She glanced back, watching him watching her.

“That fellow,” the young cashier whispered, “is he giving you trouble?”

“No,” Myka lied.

“Are you sure? I can call someone…”

“I’m fine.”

Myka quickly took her change and the bag of milk and hurried out of the store.

“Not so fast slut,” Myka felt a large hand grab her arm as soon as she’d rounded the corner outside the door. She’d been in such a rush to escape Sam she didn’t see his friends parked outside.

“Where do you think you’re going?”  His friend asked.

“Home,” Myka pulled her arm out of his grasp.

“I think you owe us a dance,” he said, stepping closer. “I remember what you did to Sam last summer.”

“Fuck you,” Myka reached into her pocket for her mace.

“There’ll be none of that,” Sam appeared behind her yanking her hand out her pocket. He had left the store shortly after her. 

“Now I believe you owe me a private dance,” he grabbed one of her arms, his friend the other as they dragged her towards the car.

“No,” Myka gasped, tears starting to form in her eyes, “please no.”

They forced her into the back seat of the four door car where another one of Sam’s friends helped hold her down.

“Let’s go,” Sam shouted from the front seat.

Suddenly a car screeched in behind them, blocking their exit.

“What the fuck,” Sam bellowed and quickly got out of the car.

“Get out of the way man,” she shouted at the older looking BMW blocking their way.

“Help,” Myka yelled from the back seat before a beefy hand covered her mouth.

After a moment, three car and once convenience store door opened.

“Oh hey,” Sam tired to play it off. “What’s up AK?  Hey Will.”

“Samuel,” AK replied.

“What’s going on here?” Will asked, looking over at the car’s driver, HG.

“They have Myka in the back seat,” HG growled out as stood next to the driver’s side door.

“Whatever you crazy bitch,” Sam laughed.

“Then who’s in the back seat?” HG rounded the front of her car. Sam quickly blocked her path.

AK and Will exchanged looks. The windows of Sam’s car were tinted so it was hard to tell if someone was in the back seat or not.

“I saw you abduct her,” HG’s voice was low and full of fury. “We were at the light. I looked over and saw you dragging Myka into your car.”

“Bullshit,” Sam hissed.  “Move your car.”

“Not until you let Myka go.”

“Call the cops,” Will shouted to the stunned cashier who stood in the doorway of the 7-Eleven.

The young man nodded and hurried inside.

“There’s no need for that,” Sam crossed his arms.

AK and Will stepped behind HG.

“So let us look in the car and we’ll tell the cops this was all a big misunderstanding.” Will replied.

“Let her go,” HG growled again.

“I said,” Sam stepped closer, towering over HG “get your fucking car out of the way dyke.”

A muffled scream came from the back of the car, breaking the tension for a moment.

“I warned you,” HG sneered as she punched Sam in the windpipe, causing him to fall to his knees.  As he gasped for air, she quickly made her to the car and pulled the door open, Will and AK hot on her heels.

“Let her go,” HG shouted as she reached for her struggling friend.  AK and Will pulled the man holding Myka out of the car, dragging them both into the street as the cops pulled up.

Hours later Myka sat next to HG on a bench in front of the police station. The sun was rising and cast a hazy orange glow across the sky. AK and Will had gone to get HG’s car from down the block to give the woman some space to talk.

Sam and his buddies were being processed for assault.  It turned out that Sam and his friend Jim had an outstanding warrant from another assault case.  HG hoped they would stay in jail for some time.

 “Thank you,” Myka said softly. “If you hadn’t come by.”

“Don’t,” Helena rasped.  “I did and that’s what matters.”

“Why were you even in that part of town?”

“AK moved down the street from Steve and Liam. We were heading back from dinner to drop him off.”

“Oh,” Myka sighed.

Helena reached across the gap between them and took Myka’s hand.  “I know that we haven’t spoken as of late. But I want you to know that I haven’t stopped caring for you.”

“I know you care,” Myka felt the tears pool in her eyes.  “I’ve always known.”

“But,” Helena asked as she slid closer to the other woman.

“How can you?” Myka looked up, eyes bright with tears.

“Because I do,” Helena smiled sadly, gently caressing Myka’s face.  “I admit it might have started as a strong physical attraction but as soon as we began to talk in class,” Helena let her hand fall to her lap. “I knew.  It was you, Myka Bering. Who you are.  Can’t you see it?”


	116. There's a quiet storm and I think it’s you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Care for a dance Mrs. Wells?”  
> “Always Mrs. Bering.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff time with the whole team.
> 
> (Yeah I don't know where this came from either.)
> 
> Thanks for reading!

Claudia swayed around her room as she got ready. As soon as they’d announced the wedding she’s created three love and/or wedding playlists. Right now she was listening to the ‘greatest of the greatest’ softly singing along.

“Are you almost ready?” Josh poked his head around the corner. “We still have to drive into town.”

“Almost,” she spun with a smile. “Where’s Claire?”

“Downstairs with Abigail and Artie.  The others already left.”

“I’ll be down in a sec.”

The red head put the finishing touches on her look, classic yet punk around the edges.  She pulled down her favorite picture from the mirror, the one from the engagement announcement.  It was one of the few that had the current team (even Mrs. Fredric) in a candid moment, laughing around the dining room table.

“Squeal of delight,” she put the picture back and scampered down the stairs.

 

“Do you have my…”

“Right here,” Myka smirked and handed her partner his dad’s cufflinks.  “Your mom gave them to me this morning.”

Pete fumbled for a moment as he tried to secure the fastener on his wrist.

“Let me,” HG moved next to her friend. “Charles could never get these on by himself either.”

Myka smiled as she watched her wife fuss over her partner.

“And what are you grinning at over there?” HG asked as she worked on Pete’s other cufflink.

“How adorable you two are.”

“Wha…” Pete shook his head.

“I should think not.” HG snorted.

“Knock knock,” Claudia poked her head around the corner.

“Alright the gang’s all here,” freshly cufflinked Pete pulled Claudia into a hug. 

“We’re ready when you guys are,” with a wave she headed back into the hallway.

“I’ll go take my seat then,” HG pulled Pete into a hug. “Congratulations.” She whispered into his ear.

After sharing a brief but heated kiss with Myka she left the room.

“Okay?” Myka asked, looking at her best friend.

Pete took a deep breath a grinned. “Okay.”

“Then let’s get you hitched Lattimer.”

 

Josh danced with Claire after a few toasts and a few tears.  He’d never admit this to his sisters but he loved weddings. When he looked up some of his friends once he’d escaped the inter-dimensional space he’d be trapped in almost everyone his age was married.

Or divorced at least once.

“I know how you feel,” Claire said as they twirled around the floor. “I’m sad I missed those weddings too.”

Josh smiled. “Yeah.”

“But just think,” she nodded towards the youngest Donovan, “there’s still hope for that one.”

“And you.” Josh replied.

“And you too. Claudia told me about Ingrid at Cern.”

“We’ve only been on two dates!”

“An older sister knows,” Claire joked as they spun around the dance floor.

 

“I love weddings,” Claudia beamed, leaning into Steve.

“I know,” he joked. “I’m surprised you stopped at three playlists.”

“Myka made me,” she frowned for a moment.  “Too bad almost everyone at the Warehouse is now hitched.”

Claudia looked from Steve to Liam and back to Steve.

“We’re a little early in the process for wedding bells Claude,” Steve shook his head.

“We just got back together,” Liam chuckled. “And I’m still not sure about this ‘Artifact Roadshow’ Warehouse where you all work.”

“You will be soon,” Claudia mumbled.

 

 

“Pete looks so happy,” Myka smiled, pulling HG back and into her arms. The pair sat a little ways away from the wedding party’s table. As best woman, Myka had been busy most of the night. Now that the dancing had started she was free to spend time with her wife of three years (2 months and 16 days.)

“He does,” HG agreed, leaning back into the taller woman. “I’m reminded of our own wedding.”

“Except with less exploding cake,” Myka chuckled; thinking of the ‘surprise’ Claudia had designed for the pair.

“It certainly made for a lively affair,” HG leaned up and gave Myka a kiss.

“Care for a dance Mrs. Wells?”

“Always Mrs. Bering.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wanted to send out a super thank you to all the readers of The Vodka Made Me Do It. We're just about to hit the one year mark for this insane AU anthology/drunken ramble series. I'd never imagined that we'd hit 116 chapters, nearly 80K in words and over 17K in hits. Wow, just wow. Bering and Wells fans are really the best!


	117. Me and God, we don’t get along, so now I sing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “That, my love, is a story for another day.”  
> “That bad?”  
> “Worse than tentacles.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Craytown crossover alert! We've got a bit of a blend of American Horror Story Freak Show meets the AU Warehouse 13 universe hinted at in 107 and 109. Plus we've got some brotp building with the trio of HG/Pete/Steve. Basically an AU season 5 and beyond setting if you will. I'm not sure how well this works but I wanted to get this up before this week's AHS Freak Show episode. 
> 
> This is 1000% because of my obsession with Jessica Lange's version of Gods and Monsters. Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think.

Pete scanned the inventory list, his eyes lighting up. 

“Edward Mordrake” he looked over at HG, “this looks right up your alley.”

“Do not remind me,” she shuttered. “That was not a case I wish to remember.”

“So did the guy really have a face on the back of his head?”

“I was not acquainted with the man, only with the artifacts he created.  Of which there were many.”

“Not as many as you,” Pete pointed out as they headed down the row.

“I didn’t realize it was a competition.”

“Guys,” Steve, who’d been a few feet ahead of the pair stopped. “Do you hear that?”

“Music,” HG looked over at Pete.

“Don’t look at me. That’s coming from you boy’s section.”

“Mordrake was not my ‘boy’,” HG grumbled.

“You did collect four of his curiosities,” Steve pointed out, “more than any other Agent.”

“And none of those involved music,” HG pointed out as they rounded the corner and entered the Mordrake section.

“Well Buck Mendell collected a couple of artifacts from a sideshow carnival in the 50s that were linked to Mordrake,”   Steve recalled.  “I wonder if they decided to act up.”

“It is close to Halloween,” HG nodded.

“So,” Pete asked.

“Legend has it that once Mordrake escaped Bethlem he joined a traveling carnival.”

“A freak show?” Pete interrupted.

“Yes,” HG rolled her eyes, “if I may continue.  He became so disturbed by the evil mutterings of the face on the back of his head he murdered the carnival’s members before hanging himself on Halloween. And so from that point on all side shows and circuses are dark on Halloween to avoid raising the spirit of Mordrake.”

“That’s a nice campfire story HG,” Pete glanced over at Steve, “but it’s not even Halloween and this isn’t’ some roadside attraction.”

“But the warehouse is a bit of a ‘freak show’ is it not?”

“Helena, you don’t believe that story, do you?” Steve raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“I would think that after your many years spent at Warehouse 13 that you wouldn’t consider the possibility. How many ‘mythical’ objects sit in the aisle at this very moment?”

Any reply was cut short by the sound of music, louder this time, coming from further down the row.

“I don’t see anything weird,” Pete scanned down the aisle. “Well nothing weirder than normal.”

“And we’re sure that Claudia isn’t working in this area?” HG asked.

“She’s at the B&B with Mrs. Fredric.” Steve replied.

“Well before we go down there. Let’s gear up. There’s a Goo station a couple of rows over.  I’m going to go grab a big canister and some extra gloves.”

“Good idea,” HG nodded. She walked over to the large terminal at the end of the row.  “Let’s take a look at some of the possible trouble makers in this aisle.”

 

“So what’d ya find,” Pete said as he handed out the equipment.

“Three possibilities,” HG snapped on the purple glove. “The first is a player piano scroll reportedly from the Mordrake home.  The second, though unlikely, is the wolf head topper from one of his canes.”

“But the third is a strong candidate,” HG pulled out her favorite pair of goggles, “a microphone recovered by Buck Mendell.”

“HG thinks that the boa Claude and I recovered a couple of weeks ago is its companion,” Steve grabbed the Goo canister.

“But wasn’t that Dietrich’s? How would that relate to something from some carnival?” Pete asked.

The music started again, louder and clearer than before.

“I believe that boa actually belonged to the owner of the carnival,” HG explained, but that is another story.

 

“I don’t remember the Warehouse being quite so foggy,” Pete coughed.

“Or with a green glow,” Steve looked around. They were about a third of the way down the Mordrake section.

“And when did it get dark?” Pete looked up at the dim lights overhead.

The music continued to play.

“I know this song,” HG stopped and looked at her companions.

“Now That’s What I Call Music 1896?”

HG shot Pete a withering glare.

“So what’s with the boa?” Pete asked.

“Belonged to a Freak Show owner in the 50s, Elsa Mars,” Jinks explained. “She ran a small side show out of Jupiter, Florida. They had a great run too from what I read thanks to the Tattler sisters.”

“Tattler sisters?” HG asked.

“Siamese twins. There skeleton is now at a Ripley’s Believe It or Not in Dallas.”

“Interesting. What does this boa do?”

“It’s a low level seduction artifact. Or at least we thought so.  But with the Dietrich connection…”

“Mega whammy,” Pete nodded.

“I remember reading about your case, I found it quite fascinating,” HG crept closer to the source of the music. “It seems that Mars and Dietrich traveled the same circles in 1920s Germany. It’s very possible that the boa transferred hands during that time.”

The music surged around them then stopped.

“Well that can’t be good.” Pete commented.

“Indeed.”

The song started once again.

 

 

“Holy shit,” Pete’s jaw dropped.

“Well,” Steve smirked, “that’s unexpected.”

HG found herself both entranced and concerned. 

The trio had found the source of the music.

“Hello Edward,” HG found her voice, sliding next to the man-her contemporary-as he stood watching middle aged blonde bombshell as she stood on a stage in the middle of the Warehouse, belting out the haunting melody on repeat.

“HG Wells,” he turned with a nod. “What an unexpected surprise. I had thought relicts such as us were of a bygone era.”

“Yet here we are,” Helena nodded, working hard to ignore the sinister face hidden under the large top hat. “What brings you to Warehouse 13?”

“This enchanting beauty escaped me once,” Mordrake explained. “She will not again.”

 

 

“Edward Mordrake,” Myka shook her head.

“Yes,” Helena shuttered at the thought of the man.

“And you’re sure he’s not coming back?”

“I hope not,” Helena snuggled into her partner’s embrace. “The artifacts he created were dreadful. Seeing the man in corporeal form was even worse.”

“But he’s gone?”

“Yes,” Helena nodded. “Hopefully,” she whispered.

“And Pete and Steve?”

“I suspect they are as shaken as I,” Helena shuttered again. “But the boa and the microphone are together in the dark vault. And the spirit of the Mars woman was reunited with Mordrake.”

“How?”

“That, my love, is a story for another day.”

“That bad?”

“Worse than tentacles.”


	118. Can you feel it, must be near it, feels so good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well HG seems ready for you.” Pete smirked  
> Myka rolled her eyes and punched him (hard) on the shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time for an update to that Stripper AU found 102, 103, 106, 108, 111,113 and 115. We've got a few more updates (maybe two or three) before this gets wrapped up. 
> 
> Thanks for reading as please let me know what you think.

Pete looked over at Myka as she dozed in the passenger’s seat. The duo was headed east on the interstate on the second part of their Wisconsin trip. He had told his best friend that there was no way he was coming all the way to Chicago without paying a visit to The House on the Rock.

But after what had happened they’d decided to take a little bit of a longer break and head over Milwaukee before going back to Chicago. If anything they could catch a Brewers game or check out the Harley Davidson museum.

And if Myka felt up to a phone call, maybe even lunch with a long lost relative so be it.

 

_“The police have my number if they need anything,” Myka explained to a frowning HG as she packed.  “And I’m all set up with that doctor Detective Shaw recommended. We meet next Thursday. She’s even covered by my insurance.”_

_“I just wish…”_

_“I know,” Myka stopped packing and moved to stand in front of the shorter woman._

_“But I need some time,” Myka took HG’s hands in hers. “Some time to sort things out.  About what happened,” she swallowed, “about us.”_

_“And your friend Pete…”_

_“You can turn down that green eyed monster,” Myka smiled, “he’s been my best friend since fourth grade.”_

_“Fine,” HG sighed. “I just want to be there for you.”_

_“I know. You have been,” Myka leaned in and kissed HG’s forehead. “You are.”_

 

Pete had accidently overhead the exchange between Myka and HG the night before they left.  For a moment he’d wondered if HG was going to tag along but the older student left an hour or so later.  He’d never seen Myka look at anyone like that before.

It was awesome (but also kind of scary.)

“Hey Mykes,” Pete turned the radio down. “Mykes were almost there.”

Sleepy green eyes slowly opened.  “Already?”

“Yep,” he grinned. “About 30 miles out.  How about you use that fancy phone of yours to find us a place to crash.”

After a few minutes of silence he looked over to see Myka grinning at her phone.

“And how is HG doing?”

“She’s fine,” Myka replied. 

“And the hotel?”

“Hmm?”

Pete laughed, finally capturing Myka’s full attention.

“Sorry.  I’ll find us a place.”

 

_“Everything okay?”  Myka asked Theo as she watched one of the other dancers, Deidre clutch her phone as tears streamed down her face._

_“Just the weekly drama,” Theo rolled her eyes._

_“Drama?”_

_“Yeah,” another of the veteran dancers, Mandy, sat down next to Theo. “Every couple of weeks it’s a new guy that’s going to be her knight in shining armor.”_

_“But it never works out,” Theo sighed. “Rule number one of the club, never date a regular customer.”_

_“Never?” Myka glanced over at Deidre who had calmed down._

_“Every once in a while,” Mandy replied. “Or so I’ve been told.”_

_“I’ve yet to see it,” Theo agreed. “But Leena knows a girl or two.”_

_Deidre plopped down in the chair next to Myka._

_“That’s it,” she looked over at the other dancers. “I’m done.”_

_Mandy and Theo exchange looks._

_“The next person I date is gonna be a woman.”_

 

“OMG this might be my new favorite thing,” Pete moaned as he shoveled another spoonful of frozen custard sundae in his month. “You have to try this.”

“I’m good over here,” Myka waved the last part of her cone.

“So here we are,” Pete wiped his chin, “with a couple of days to kill in Milwaukee…”

She knew that tone. “Really? Now?”

“Why not?”

“Because Pete,” Myka leaned back and crossed her arms. “Haven’t I been through enough in these past few weeks?”

“But it’s your mom Mykes.”

“I know it’s my mom. But I’m not ready for that.” She stood suddenly and Pete had to hurry to stay with her. “I’m barely ready for HG. There’s no way I’m ready to bring my family into the mix.”

“Well HG seems ready for you.” Pete smirked

Myka rolled her eyes and punched him (hard) on the shoulder.

 

_“You don’t know me Helena,” Myka pulled away from the caress._

_“Not as well as I like,” HG joked, “but I want to know more. I’ve always wanted to know more.” She looked down the street in the direction Wolly and AK had gone. “I’d seen you dance a few times before that night. There was always something about you that stood out.  I’d asked around and found out that you’d just started that summer and wouldn’t last. But I never found out exactly why.”_

_“So that’s why you asked for that dance?”_

_“It was my last night in the city. I had nothing left to lose.”  HG turned back to face the other woman. “I had no idea that I’d see you in class this summer. But the moment I saw you again I felt that same sensation.”_

_“And now that I know of your wit and charm, of your tenacity and of your compassion…I barely have the words to describe the depth of emotion I have for you.” Helena glanced down the street once again and stood when she noticed her car heading towards them.  She offered her hand, “It makes me ever so thankful that you chose to sit next to me.”_

_Myka took HG’s hand._

 

Pete had gone downstairs to see what he could scrounge up for breakfast. The pair had stayed up late the night before watching movies and telling more stories about the time they’d spent apart.  Pete was now one of the assistant managers of Artie’s shop and was talking a few night classes at the community college. She couldn’t be prouder for her friend.

Sitting up in the bed Myka pulled out her phone and smiled at the good morning text from Helena and laughed at the picture Steve and Liam had sent from their vacation.

Before she chickened out she dialed the number she’d memorized months ago, hoping for voicemail.

“Hello?”  A woman’s voice said after two rings.

Myka’s breath caught.

“Hello?” the voice said again.

“Jeannie Bering?” Myka stumbled out.

“My last name hasn’t been Bering for some time. Who is this?”

“It’s Myka.”

 


	119. Exit 353

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Aces,” Helena beamed. She leaned into Myka’s personal space. “I’ve missed you.”  
> “I know the feeling. Are you up for a walk after work?”  
> “With you? Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have done a lot of driving this week for work and for vacation, so I give you the 'Myka is a truck driver, HG is a waitress at a truck stop AU'. Because the open road plus Patsy Cline makes this happen. Also the exit used is a real stop, just not in the place mentioned in this bit of fiction.
> 
> Thanks for reading and I'm always open to feedback, so please feel free to share.

She wondered if the jukebox ever played anything but Patsy Cline each time she stopped at exit 353. The 24 hour diner was never full but had enough customers to keep it going. And the truth be told it was her favorite break spot between El Paso and Dallas, a Flying J seemingly in the middle of nowhere.

A perfect place for long haul truckers such as herself to stop, eat and maybe sleep.

Plus that ancient jukebox that didn’t have a song past 1983, almost all of them country, well that was just a perk.

 

“Mykes!” Pete’s bellow from the counter jolted her from her thoughts.

“Hey partner.”  She greeted. They weren’t really ‘partners’ other than they had learned how to drive trucks together years ago. But she picked up the cross country route soon after and they hardly saw each other.

Except for a semi-random run in at the Flying J diner and the occasional dinner back home.

“I saw our favorite state trooper car parked in the lot,” he pulled her into a half hug as she sat down next to him. “Leena said they’ll be in shortly.”

“Great,” Myka smiled, trying to discreetly check out the room.

“She’s on a break,” Pete grinned as he put a smothered fry in his mouth.

Myka rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her blush. There was another reason why exit 353 was her favorite.

“Oh hello,” Helena greeted with a smile as she tied her apron around her waist. “I didn’t think I’d see you until next week.”

“I’m on a short run, Univille to New Orleans to El Paso.”

“A bit out of your normal route isn’t it,” Helena’s dark eyes sparkled as she poured the coffee.

“I suppose it is,” Myka replied with a grin, “but I just can’t resist Leena’s cobbler.”

“Cobbler?”

“Is that what we’re calling it now,” Pete mumbled. Myka smirked and punched him in the arm.

“Hey!”

“Am I going to need to file a report on this?”

“No need Troopers,” Myka turned with a smile. “Pete was just being an ass.”

“No surprise there,” Trooper Donovan pulled off her wide brimmed hat and set it on the counter.   She plopped down next to Myka.

“How’s it going Myka,” Trooper Jinks sat down next to his partner.  “I didn’t think we’d see you for a while still.”

“Apparently there’s a new route,” Helena quirked an eyebrow as she filled the State Troopers coffee cups.

“One of the guys got sick. Artie was in a bind and I can always use the extra cash.”

Before Helena could respond she heard her name called from the kitchen.

“I’ll be back in a moment,” she said with a smile.

 

While Helena served her tables, Myka caught up with Pete and Officers Donovan and Jinks. The four of them had met years before during a massive pile up on Interstate 10.  The forecasters predicted fog but not to the extent that caused car after car to hit one another.  Myka had managed to avoid slamming her rig into a stalled RV and when she got out of her truck to make sure everyone was okay, Trooper Donovan had drafted her into helping.

She had spent hours working a long side Pete and the State Troopers to make sure everyone was okay.  They had pulled off at exit 353 for some food and to rest, with Claudia and Jinks offering to buy breakfast after the long night of work.

Leena had sat them in Helena’s section and Myka, after looking into Helena’s brown eyes struggled to remember the events that had brought her to the Flying J that morning.

 

Before she realized, Myka was saying goodbye to Officers Donovan and Jinks and hugging Pete with promises of dinner when they got back to South Dakota.

“So,” dark eyes sparkled, “how much longer can you stay? I get off in 20 minutes.”

“Depends,” Myka smiled, squeezed the small box in her pocket.  “Are you free tomorrow?”

“I can be,” Helena smiled.  

“I’m on my way back so I’ve got some free time. “

“Aces,” Helena beamed.  She leaned into Myka’s personal space. “I’ve missed you.”

“I know the feeling. Are you up for a walk after work?”

“With you? Always.”


	120. Too far away from lips so sweet and warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There,” Will sighed dramatically, “I was expecting to be in the wedding.”  
> “We’ll see,” Helena smirked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two of two for the Truck Stop AU. Remember, I've been listening to a lot of Pasty Cline so...

“I know you love that ring,” Artie called from the kitchen, pulling Helena from her reverie, “but we’ve got a full house and the plates are backing up.”

“Sorry,” HG blushed and grabbed a tray.

“Young love,” the head cook rolled his eyes but Helena caught the smile he tried to hide.

 

“Congrats HG,” Will grinned as HG set down his heart attack special.

“Have you guys set a date?’ Duncan asked as he smothered his omelet in hot sauce.

“Not yet boys, but I expect both of you there.” Will and Duncan hadn’t seen her since Myka asked for her hand a week before. Her best friends in the two stoplight town had been out working the oil fields until a couple of days ago.

“There,” Will sighed dramatically, “I was expecting to be in the wedding.”

“We’ll see,” Helena smirked.

 

It seemed as if many of the regular customers at the Flying J had got wind of Helena’s engagement, including several of the long haul truckers who joked about not making a move quick enough. Many of them knew Myka well and were glad for them both. It was refreshing considering this part of the state wasn’t known for its progressive ideas. Ten years ago living where she did and being a waitress, well there was no way that would ever had happened.

But she had needed to get away from the city and her past. Of mistakes made and opportunities lost.  She’d been heading somewhere else when she pulled into the Flying J, needing a break from the road. She almost didn’t see the ‘help wanted’ sign on the counter.

 

“I’m going to take a break,” Helena said to Rebecca.  The dinner crowd had died down and she hadn’t spoken to Myka yet today.

“Tell your girl hi for me,” the petite redhead called as Helena headed out the back exit for some privacy.

“Hey,” Myka’s warm voice greeted.

“Hello my love,” Helena signed. “I miss you. How was your day?”

Helena spent all of her fifteen minute break on the phone with her finance. Myka was on her way to California and wouldn’t be coming her way for another couple of torturous weeks.  Myka had applied to become a State Trooper and with Officer Donovan and Jinks’ recommendations had been accepted into the academy.   In six week’s time they would be sharing HG’s one bedroom apartment.

But six weeks was far from now.

“Be safe.  I love you.” She finished the call and took a moment to compose herself.

 

“Todd called while you were on the phone with Myka.  His dad is running late.”

“How late?” Helena sighed.  She couldn’t leave until Todd got there.

“A couple of hours.  He got hung up at the hospital and Todd needs to watch his sister.”

“Okay.” Helena frowned. She’d left her charger at home and her phone would soon be dead.

 

“I’m so sorry HG,” Todd practically ran into the diner, over three hours late. “Kelly is sick so dad wanted me to be there.”

“It’s okay,” Helena pushed down the wave of sadness that always came when Todd mentioned his younger sister. She was the same age Christina had been when the accident happened.

“You don’t happen to have your phone charger with you?”

“Android,” Todd held up his phone.  “Sorry.”

“Oh and congrats,” he smiled. “Leena told me. Myka seems really cool.”

“Thank you.”

 

HG had almost made it to her car when she noticed Steve and Claudia’s patrol car speed into the parking lot.  She slowed her pace as she watched the pair hustle into the diner, only to exit seconds later calling her name.

“HG wait!” Officer Donovan bellowed as she ran over to the stunned woman.

“Is everything okay?” 

“We’ve been calling for the past hour,” Claudia wheezed. “Rebecca said you got off at 9:30.”

“Todd was late.” She swallowed hard. “What is wrong?”

“There’s been an accident,” Officer Jinks pulled his hat off his head. “One of my buddies, Liam, works up in Utah.” Even in the dark Helena could see the shimmer of tears in his eyes. “No one expected it to snow so early in the season, let alone be white out conditions.”

 

Leena pulled out the faded help wanted sign out from under the counter. It’d been years since she needed to fill a position at the Flying J but after what had happened she knew it was just a matter of time. 

Helena would be hard to replace.

“Hey fellas,” she greeted when Will and Duncan walked in. “How was it out on the fields?”

“Oh you know,” Duncan replied.

“We might get the Alaska contract next,” Will slid into the booth, waving off the menu.  “It’d be a nice change of pace.”

“And a lot more money,” Duncan smirked.

“Have you heard from HG?” Leena asked as she poured them coffee.

“There was a post card when we got in from the fields,” Will leaned back. “No return address.”

 

Leena was about to head out. Todd and Rebecca had everything under control and she was hoping to get home in time to catch How to Get Away with Murder.  The show was silly but it helped her to forget.

“Hey Leena there’s someone here asking about the help wanted sign,” Todd popped around the corner.

“Okay.”


	121. I carry their names  The secret shapes  An aching parade  Around my heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I wouldn’t call what I’m doing living.”  
> “Touché,” she smirked. “Have you been in what used to be the United States long?”  
> “My business partner and I came here to work on a project and present at a business conference. We were only to be here three weeks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dystopia, you're like an old comfy sweater that I pull out on long cold nights to keep me warm. It seems like forever since I've written one of these types of one shots so here you go. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think.

It was night when the first bombs fell.  You’d been driving to Indianapolis from St Louis thanks to a one time too many delayed flight.  Wolly was on the phone with your brother to go over the revised schedule.  The conference has been remarkably accommodating given the circumstances.

But people tended to make exceptions for the firm of WWC.

“What’s that racket?” you heard Wolly ask. “Are those sirens?”

You could make out your brothers frantic shouts before the line went quiet.

“Is everything okay?” you’d asked but the glow in the distance caught your eye.  Then another a few moments later.

“Pull over,” Wolly shouted. You switched off your iTunes and turned on the radio, eyes wide as saucers as frantic reporters barked out what they knew about the end of the world.

 

You’d spent the rest of the night parked on the side of the interstate processing what you’d heard.  The hope of ever returning to England slowly dying as more information was revealed. Eventually the radio airwaves went silent.

“Do you know anyone here?” you almost didn’t recognize your own voice. It’d been hours since you last spoken.

“Yeah,” Wolly swallowed. “Bob is in New York, Sarah lives in Miami, Duncan is in Atlanta…”

“Anyone who is someplace that still exists on this planet?”  (You’d apologize later for your tone).

“Christ,” Wolly ran his hand through his hair. “Oh fuck.”

“Giselle has a cousin that lives in Des Moines (oh God, Giselle). We’ve spoken many times on the phone.”

“Do you have an address?”

“I have a name, we can look her up.”

“Where Helena? On what?”

“Fuck.”

 

Through sheer luck you’d managed to find Giselle’s cousin Roberta and her husband in Des Moines. And for a time you were safe.  Given the state of the world, many people had been preparing for the worst before it came and Roberta’s family had been one of them.

You’d learned how to shoot a gun then, as had Wolly. And how to wield a knife.  Roberta’s husband David called you a natural. He took you out hunting later, showing you how to set a simple snare for small animals and other game. It was messy but necessary.

 

 You were a skilled negotiator, so when the stores ran out of food you were able to barter far better than anyone else on the block with the food Wolly was able to grow in the back yard.

“Who would have thought all those years spend helping mother in the garden would be worth something,” he joked as you knelt beside him pulling weeds a few months later.

“We are all very thankful to her foresight.”

He frowned and sat back, weeds clutched loosely in his hands.

“God,” he whispered, tears pooling in his eyes, “I hope that she went quick.” He gasped. “I can’t believe I said that but it’s true.  I hope that she didn’t survive.  It would be too much for her.”

“It’s okay,” you pulled off your gloves and hugged your best friend.  You thought of your own family. Your brother Charles who’s screams haunted you at night.  Your lover, Giselle, who as supposed to fly out for a job in Munich that morning.

And of Christina. You didn’t want to imagine your darling girl calling your name as the flames raced toward your flat back home.

But you did. Every night.

 

You rarely thought about your early days in Des Moines anymore.  It was hard to imagine how you once thought those were the worst of times.  Because the first winter came, the first of many that seemed to last nearly half the year with ash and debris blocking out the sun, freezing the Earth and eventually the people.

You remembered the foraging that yielded less each day, watching your stores continue to dwindle. Turning to traps, catching any wildlife that strayed into your vicinity. (Cutting off collars and digging out tracking chips before you roasted the meat.)

By the time spring came you were all thin and pale, desperate for the ground to thaw so you could replenish your supplies.  You knew many of your neighbors had fled or died so your bartering skills weren’t needed as much.

After the second wave of Wolly’s spring crop failed you’d found a note taped to the back door.

Roberta and David had fled, taking the last of the food with them.

“At least they left us some weapons.” Wolly, ever the optimist.

 

The open road was not a safe place.  Vehicles had become top on the endangered species list so many hours were spent on foot.  You’d both decided south was the best option given the harsh winter recently  survived.  You stuck to the back roads, following a US Map liberated from a scavenged 7-11.

“Since when did you know so much about plants,” Wolly had asked as you boiled some greens you’d picked from the side of the road.

“No one scavenges from the public library,” you’d smirked. “I had a lot of time to read last winter.”

 

Christina’s screamers grew  louder in your dreams.

 

That first year and a half, those had been some of the best of times.  You were tired and hungry nearly 24/7  but Wolly kept you going.  He wasn’t prone to fits of melancholy despite the dire straits in which  you’d found yourselves. And he had a keen sense of reading situations.  He’s saved you both many times from roaming gangs and packs of wild animals.

Until he didn’t

 

His screams mixed with Christina’s now while you slept.

 

 It had been five weeks since Wolly’s death. You hadn’t eaten in three days and winter was on its way.  You had no idea where you were (Wolly had the map on him) and as you stood on that bridge, looking down at the turning waters below you wondered if this might not be the easier way.

Christina’s screams had been haunting you’re waking hours, dementia you supposed from dehydration or maybe starvation, most likely both.  Your engineering degree from Cambridge hadn’t covered how to deal with an apocalypse.

“That’s quite a first step.”

You spun around in shock, not even thinking to pull the gun tucked at your waist.

Before you stood a woman, tall and lean with long unruly brown hair. Sharp green eyes met yours.  At the far edge of the bridge you noticed a vehicle parked with two others standing next to it.

She raised her hands to show that she was weapons free.

“I suppose it is.”

“English,” her eyes widened in amazement.

“I’m afraid so,” you smiled sadly, thinking of a place dead to you.

“Have you lived here long?”

“I wouldn’t call what I’m doing living.”

“Touché,” she smirked. “Have you been in what used to be the United States long?”

“My business partner and I came here to work on a project and present at a business conference. We were only to be here three weeks.”

“What sort of project?” she sounded genuinely curious.

“We were working on a construction project in St. Louis.”

“And what conference?”

“WHAT DOES IT MATTER!?” you shouted, clenching your hands tightly at your sides.

“Because if you decide to take that step I think someone should remember you for who you are, not what’s been done to you.”

“Oh.”

You can’t believe this woman, this stranger, standing on a bridge in the middle of nowhere giving a damn.

“You think I’m full of shit,” she gave a small smile (adorable). “My friends back there told me not to come over. Just to let you jump. But I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

“Because there was a time that I felt probably like how you’re feeling now and someone talked me down off the ledge.”

“Metaphorically?”

“Not completely.”

“And how do I know that this isn’t’ some sort of elaborate trick? That you and your friends aren’t cannibals or something?”

“I’m not a cannibal,” she shudders, “we’ve got a pretty good set up a few miles down the road. But a couple of the buildings need to be properly reinforced for the winter. An engineer would come in handy.” She pauses, smile on her lips. “At least until we eat her.”

You quirked an eyebrow and stepped down from the ledge.

 

“Can’t sleep,” she wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you back into her frame.  You feel yourself melt, snuggling back into the warmth of her body, pulling your focus from the snow covered field in front of the large upstairs window. This is the fourth winter you’ve sheltered with her and each one gets colder and longer.

And more wonderous.

“Nightmares.”

“Oh honey,” she kisses your shoulder. 

“I was remembering Wolly, the day he was killed. I didn’t  think it fair to you if I spent the rest of the night tossing and turning.”

She spins you slowly, kissing you deeply, passionately, helping you to forget.

“We can toss and turn together if you like?”

She smiles that crooked smile you adore so much.

“I love you Myka.”

She takes your hand and leads you back to your room.


	122. What Love Tells Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “That’s the other sight I’ll never grow tired of witnessing,” Steven spoke quietly looking over at this friends.  
> “True love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for fluff. Fluff thanks to my love of Mahler and a conversation with one of my fic heroes Apparitionism.  
> So here a medieval type setting AU with a happy ending!
> 
> Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think!

And suddenly there was silence.

It was jarring after the endless hours of clashing swords and the screams of men and animals dying all around the battlefield.   The grunts of Peter and Steven as they fought next to you for a time, taking down King Sykes’ men one after another. 

Slowly sound returned. First it was the tinkle of gear on rider less horses, next came the moans of the injured and dying.

Finally the shouts of your squire secured you fully in the present.

“I’m fine,” you smile, as you pulled off your helmet and tossed it aside.  “Just tired and a bit battered. How have we faired?”

“We’ve won the day,” your squire, Joshua beamed. “My sisters are tending the wounded now. Sir Lattimer is among them but he will be fine.”

“And Steven.”

“He is uninjured and overseeing the prisoners.”

“Good, good.” You reached up and freed your long hair. The dark brown curls scraped lightly against the metal on your shoulders.

“Have Mistress Leena dispatch one of her ravens to my sister. Let the realm know that the lands of Bering are secure and that the Lord of the realm shall soon return home.”

With a nod Joshua disappeared and you are left to gather your wits once more.  Your green eyes slowly swept the plains before you. This once was lush farm land. Now it will be a resting place for the honored dead.

You send up a prayer that it will someday be known as farmland again.

 

 

You found Sir Lattimer propped up on a pillow in his tent, arm and shoulder bandaged tightly.

“All hail the conquering hero!” he cheered as you let the flap fall back into place.

“Hardly,” you couldn’t  help the crimson that grew on your cheeks.

“Come now Myka,” he smiled. “You have saved the lands your father left to you and your sister.  When her child is born your line will be secure.”

“As long as it’s a boy.”

“After today, no one will question whether it’s a Bering male or female. No one has defeated Walter Sykes in battle. Until you.  He has sent over his surrender?”

“He has.”

“There you have it. Now there is only one thing left to attend too.”  Your longtime friend waggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

“Peter!” You punched him on his uninjured shoulder.

 

Lord Walter Sykes was not the man you remembered.  He looks old and tired with a patch over his eye thanks to a well placed blow that nearly left him blind. Gone is the condescending monster who once threatened to teach you and your sister a lesson. And to make your soon to be bride his own.

You could make the same threats, the same vile promises now that you have beaten him soundly.

“Sir Walter,” you motioned for your chief counselor to bring the contract forward.  “I believe these terms are fair.”

“Far better than he deserves,” you hear Arthur mumble as he sets the scroll down.  

You shake your head and do your best to hide your smirk.

“Have you reviewed the terms?”

“I have Sir Bering,” Lord Sykes reached for the quill. “I would have not offered such generous terms of surrender.”

“Good thing I am not you then, is it not?”

“Yes,” he sighed, the signature has secured his future.  “I have gravely underestimated you Myka Bering. I fear for the next person who makes that same mistake.”

“I pray there will never be a next time.”

 

It takes some time, longer than you had hoped  to finish with the toils of war. The wounded tended to, the dead from both sides given a proper burial. The minutia of the surrender to be worked out.  You spent your time with the injured, helping the Donovan sisters work their healing magic.  With Mistress Leena as she tended her messenger ravens. With Sir Steven as he sorted through the prisoners, pardoning some and detaining others.

But most importantly you spent time with the men gathering those who would not see their homes again.  Thanking them for their service and saying a prayer to the Gods that their souls would know peace.

And in the quiet hours of twilight you thought of the home. Of your mother and sister and your soon to be niece or nephew, but mostly of your soon to be bride. 

“You’ve got that look in your eye,” Steven smiled as he approached. “You’re thinking of her.”

“When am I not?” you smile.

“I come with good news then.  We have sorted the last of Skyes’ men. The dead have been laid to rest and the wounded are safe to travel.  It’s time to go home.”

Your face hurt from the strength of the smile.

 

“My Lady, they’ve been spotted on the high plains road,” Sophie burst through the door. 

Lady Helena willed her hand not to tremble as she finished brushing her long dark hair.

“Quickly then,” she stood with a smile. “Help me dress properly.”

“Shall I fetch Christina?”

“Not just yet. I need your assistance first.”

It had been nearly a year since she had last laid eyes on her love.  A love she never had expected as a young widow with no dowry to speak of.  The Wells family was barely of noble birth, so much so that when her husband of six months had passed due to fever she had been sent to the Bering estate by her brother as a lady in waiting for the wife of elderly Lord Bering.

Not soon after she had found herself with child, which the Bering family had accepted as one of their own.  

That was not all she had found.

“How do I look?”

“Beautiful.  Lord Bering will be beside herself with joy at seeing you.”

“As I will her, dear Sophie.”

The bells began to chime.

“Shall I fetch Christina?”

“Please,” Helena smiled and tried to remain calm as she quickly left her chambers.

 

“I shall never grow tired of those spires,” Peter grinned broadly. The Bering castle was approaching fast.

“Neither shall I,” Steven agreed.  “There is another sight I shall never grow tired of seeing either.”

“What is that?”

The doors to the castle burst open and a lone rider thundered through the gate.  After a moment, Myka’s horse kicked up his heals and tore off.

Steven motioned for the company to stop.

“What’s going on?” Joshua, flanked by his sisters and Leena rode to the front of the line.

“Is that?” Leena asked.

“It is,” Peter smiled.

“Let’s give them a moment, shall we?” Steven smiled at the sight before him.

 

The group watched as the two riders in the distance slowed their mounts to a stop and flung themselves off their horses.  Myka staggered for a moment before falling to her knees in front of the other woman, who fell to the ground as well, pulling their leader into a tight embrace.  Their long hair swirled around them as they kissed.

“That’s the other sight I’ll never grow tired of witnessing,” Steven spoke quietly looking over at this friends.

“True love.”


	123. Feeling this, feeling this too early

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So soon after,” HG commented as she scanned the report. “I’ll meet Pete and Myka then. I suspect this will take the three of us to suss out.”  
> “Be careful.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I normally don't write anything influenced by current events but the news last night got to me in a way I didn't expect. So I give you a first for Vodka, a story with a bit of social commentary. Hope it works. 
> 
> Thanks for reading.

Claudia walked silently next to the current Caretaker of the Warehouse.  She’d been summoned on short notice for what she called her ‘Warehouse Mojo 101’ sessions out of the blue. Everyone was out on retrieval except for her and HG. Pete and Myka were in Los Angeles hunting a Watts riot artifact with Steve and Artie traveling to Antwerp looking for one of Ruben’s brushes.

Sector Du Bois 3135 wasn’t one of those areas Claudia knew very well. She’d spent some time with Steve checking the artifacts and with Artie going over the computer systems but that was the extent of her knowledge.  It was a small part of the Warehouse that tended to be mostly inactive given the potential for mass destruction a few aisles over in the Dark Vault.

“So what’s the what Mrs. F?” Claudia asked as they slowly walked the space. “This is a pretty calm section in the Library of Crazy.”

“It is Miss Donovan,” Mrs. Fredric replied. “Given the circumstances under which many of these artifacts were created, one would suspect more activity.”

“Right.” Claudia nodded. “So why are we here now?”

“Wait.”

 

The pair stood in silence in the center of the aisle. Claudia fought against her nature, not asking questions or pulling out her phone.

The sound of rushed footsteps broke the silence.

“Irene,” HG’s breathy voiced called. “Claudia, are you well?”

The Victorian appeared at the end of the row, looking flushed and concerned.

“Hey HG, we’re cool,” Claudia looked at her mentor in all things Caretaker, “right Mrs. F?”

Suddenly the aisle rumbled.

“Maybe I spoke too soon,” Claudia watched as a static ball began to form.

“Oh crapity crap crap,” Claudia stared to head towards HG who had yet to step foot in the aisle. 

“Mrs. F!” the red head shouted as the ball grew in size and power.

“She’ll be okay,” HG glanced down the section before pulling Claudia one row over.

The pair watched as several larger size static balls danced down the row and into the heart of the Warehouse.

“What the frack was that?” Claudia looked at HG.  


“Anger,” Mrs. Fredric replied. “From the Warehouse. And this sector.”

“From what?”

“This,” HG handed Claudia the crumpled paper in her hand. “It appears a decision has been made.”

“Damn,” Claudia frowned.

“Never forget that the Warehouse is a living entity. And that they can be influenced by strong emotions, especially from the Caretaker.”

“From the Caretaker?” Claudia turned to ask Mrs. Fredric for more details but the older woman was gone.

“Let’s move to a safer area,” HG suggested.  “It will take this area a few days to calm down again.”

 

 “I can feel the Warehouse’s unease,” Claudia glanced around the area.

“As do I,” HG agreed. “It is news such as this that tempted me to use the Trident.”

“But Mrs. Fredric is always so calm. I can’t believe she could have any part in this.”

“Irene is at least as old as I am, perhaps older. But she didn’t have the benefit of spending 100 years encased in Bronze. The world changes yet it remains the same.”

“You know its better.”

“In many ways yes, but not all. And we are far more distracted from the truth of things.”

The rumbling and static balls continued as the pair made their way to the office.

 

Claudia continued to monitor the unhappy Warehouse as HG checked in with the teams in the field.  Pete and Myka were wrapping things up but Artie and Steve had to move on to Brussels to hunt for the brush.

“We’ve got a ping,” Claudia called HG over.

“So soon after,” HG commented as she scanned the report. “I’ll meet Pete and Myka then. I suspect this will take the three of us to suss out.”

“Be careful.”


	124. Heaven we hope is just up the road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a sob, Myka turned and pulled Helena into her arms.  
> “You okay?” she whispered into the other woman’s hair.  
> “Much better now,” Helena sighed, pulling her wife tighter, closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a bit of musing in the world of the Hunger Games. There are other folks who've done a far better job mashing Warehouse and this universe but I've been mulling this over for a few days since I saw the movie so here you go.
> 
> I haven't read the books so this is probably a bit off. But hey, I've got to power through the writer's block somehow. (Those Victorian agents who might also be strippers in dystopian space need a bit of a push lately.)
> 
> Thanks for reading and as always please let me know what you think.

Myka held her breath as the Mockingjay stood behind her, calling for President Snow. After a night filled with grit and fear as the Capital’s bombs rained down, all she wanted to do was sleep. But the assault team had launched and a deeper fear gripped her when she looked at the main screen.

“Come on,” she heard her friend Claudia grumbled from her station on the other side of Beetee. They had lost contact with the assault team.  Myka had long ago lost any faith in the concept of God but she prayed anyway.

Finally the evil despot appeared on the screen. Myka’s fingers flew across her board in an attempt to keep the jamming signal going just a second or two longer.  She snagged snippets of conversation, of the girl from District 12 pleading for her lover’s life.

Her fingers froze when Snow revealed he’d known about the strike team all along.

The screen cut out. The Mockingjay fell apart.

And Myka leaned over a nearby trashcan and vomited.

 

Her grandfather had fought in the first rebellion. Her father had worked as an engineer as 13 prepared for the second. Her mother, rest her soul, had been a school teacher.

Myka had met Sam during 10th year as they began specialized training. She had tested highly in several categories and was considering medical. But after a session in strategic planning for the military her fate was sealed.

As was her future with the best command candidate (beside herself.)

Sam had died on a Tuesday, the same day as President Coin’s daughter. Three days after her mother.

She’d met Claudia crying in the corridor after losing both her brother and sister.

 

Claudia who along with the help of her best friend Steve helped organize an illegal monthly roaming party in the most isolated parts of 13.  Never the same date, never the same place, it was so popular that there was a waiting list.

It was there that Myka first met Helena Wells who had fled District 2 and a successful career as a Peacekeeper. Now she was quickly rising through the ranks as part of 13’s military.

“She lost it,” Claudia explained during one of their shifts in Command.  “After her daughter was Reaped.”

“But 2 are careers.”

“Not everyone.”

 

“Any word,” Leena looked from Claudia to Pete. 

“Nothing yet,” Pete took a bite of his sandwich. “But the boys on the hanger deck all have high hopes. That’s the best flight team we have.”

“Yuck,” Claudia frowned. “Mouth closed next time.”

“Medical is on constant alert.” Leena looked over at a silent Myka.  “We’re ready for just about anything.”

“Mykes you should eat something.”

“I’m not hungry Pete.”

“I know,” he sighed. “But you need to keep your strength up.”

“For Helena.”

 

Myka kissed her way up the sweat covered body below her. It was a rare night with the two of them both off duty for a full six hours.

They weren’t about to waste it.

“I love you,” Helena pulled her in, kissing her lips briefly. “I love you Myka Bering.”

“And I you,” Myka smiled. “More than I thought possible.”

“Marry me?”

“Yes.”

 

“Specialist Bering.”

Myka stood quickly.

“Madame President.”

“I understand your spouse was one of the six volunteers for the strike team.”

“Yes Ma’am. Has there been any word?”

“Nothing yet,” Coin reached out to touch her arm. “But I have faith that we will hear from them soon.”

“Thank you Ma’am.”

 

Her heart nearly pounded out of her chest as she ran into medical.  She spotted the Mockingjay hugging her friend Gale. A snarl from her left pulled her attention away from the reunion as the Tribute from 7 argued with the medical team.

“She was quite a handful,” Myka closed her eyes, silently thanking fate. “fought us the entire way. Didn’t care that we were risking our lives to rescue her.”

With a sob, Myka turned and pulled Helena into her arms.

“You okay?” she whispered into the other woman’s hair.

“Much better now,” Helena sighed, pulling her wife tighter, closer.


	125. And though our kids are blessed, their parents let them shoulder all the blame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And part of me,” Myka gasped, tears finally falling, “part of me understands. Because I know what that desperation feels like. But how could she just leave me? Leave me and never come back?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The saga of that Stripper AU continues (found in 102, 103, 106, 108, 111,113, 115 and 118) with an angst filled chapter dealing with Myka's past. I'm thinking maybe one more chapter, two tops for this one with a bit of a return to the tawdry premise found in the first couple of installments.
> 
> Thanks again for reading and please please please let me know what you think!

_She’d found her dad partially collapsed on the dining room table, a bottle of Wild Turkey in one hand, a tattered photograph in the other.  Slowly, carefully she pulled the bottle from his grip and set it back in what passed for a liquor cabinet at their house._

_The picture was a bit trickier._

_She was 13 years old and had never seen a picture of her mom.  And here was one with her mom, a clean and sober looking younger version of her dad and a baby.  Her breath quickened as she turned the photography over, eyes bulging at the date scrawled on the back._

_“Hey!” a vise like grip on her wrist caused her to drop the picture and pull away in pain._

_“That’s not for you,” her dad, awake but still drunk snatched the picture up from the table top. “Forget you ever saw this.” He growled and staggered off towards his room._

_But Myka didn’t.  Even if she didn’t have a photographic memory she would never forget the picture of a once happy family._

 

The woman that sat across from her at the Applebee’s looked like an older version of the woman in the photograph.  The hair was shorter and gray but the face was the same.

But the smile she gave in greeting wasn’t full of joy like the one in the picture.

Pete sat at the bar watching the Braves on one TV and the Brewers on another while the Myka sat with her mom in a booth in the back.

“I didn’t think he’d give you my number,” she began. “Warren always was a stubborn ass.”

“He came all the way to Chicago to give it to me.”

“He did?” she nodded.  “He told me you were a freshman at Northwestern?”

“Yeah,” Myka replied. “Well now a sophomore.”

“I’m glad.”

The waiter came by to get food orders but Myka barely remembered what she’d picked. It didn’t matter. Her stomach was too torn up to eat.

She’d make sure to get a to go box for Pete.

“Your friend seems nice,” she began.

“Pete? He’s great.” Myka smiled. “We’ve been friends forever.”

“Are you two?”

Myka chuckled. “Oh no.  There’s no way.”

“Well that’s a shame. He seems nice.”

“He is. But I’m seeing someone so.”

“And what does he do?”

“She’s a junior with a double major at school.”

“Oh.”

An extremely awkward silence followed Myka’s declaration.  Of course her phone buzzed with a text from HG to shatter the silence.

“Is that from her?”

“Yeah. I told her that we were meeting today. She was there when dad came a few months ago.”

“I’m sure that went well.”

Myka smirked at the hint of sarcasm in the other woman’s tone.

“He doesn’t know.  He’ll never know.”

“I’m sure at some point…”

“He’ll never know because he’s not going to be part of my life,” Myka clenched her jaw. “Ever again.”

“That’s a bit extreme, don’t you think?”

“You tell me.”

Myka felt the anger swell.  “It worked pretty well for you.”

“You don’t understand.”

“So tell me.”

Myka sat back and listened to the other woman spin a story about a girl who fell in love with the wrong boy. A boy who got her pregnant at an early age, so she traded in her scholarship to Georgia Tech for diaper duty and a part time job as a waitress.  And how after the second child the boy began to drink, and curse, and sometimes hit when he got too drunk or lost too much playing cards with the guys down at the shop.

And how the girl, after a very bad evening decided that she couldn’t take it anymore so she made a plan. A plan to escape and to start over.

“I had a cousin in Tulsa that Warren didn’t know about,” the other woman explained. “He’d agreed to help me finish school. Get on my feet.”

The napkin she’d been holding was in shreds.

“So after your father went to work I packed a bag for all of us,” she whispered.

Myka’s jay clenched.

“I put your sister in the back seat and drove to school to pick you up,” the other woman stammered, tears streamed down her cheeks. “I got to school for parent/teacher day, planning to meet your teachers then take you with me.  I watched as your father, your God damned father, parked his car and walked into the building.”

“I told him the wrong day,” she rasped. “I told him the wrong day on purpose but somehow he found out and showed up.”

The other woman sobbed.

“So you left,” Myka finished, tone flat.

 

_“It’s a shame your father couldn’t make it to the awards ceremony,” Mrs. Calder, Myka’s favorite teacher said as she pulled back from a hug. “You really cleaned up tonight.”_

_“Thanks,” Myka blushed. “He couldn’t get his shift covered.”_

_“That’s why we cheered extra loud,” Pete’s mom appeared next to Myka. “Myka’s one of the family.”_

_“I’m glad. Have you decided where you’re going next year?”_

_“I think Northwestern Mrs. Calder,” Myka replied with a nod._

_“So much snow,” the science teacher joked. “Are you sure?”_

_“Yes.”_

 

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Pete asked as they sat in the parking lot.   He’d been surprised to find his bill paid for by Myka’s mom when his best friend came over and told him was time to go.

Myka looked down at her hands. At the floor boards. At her shoes.

“My dad was abusing her,” she said softly. “He was drinking and abusive and I get why she left. She even planned on taking me,” Myka fought against the breakdown about to happen. “But my fucking father spoiled the plans.  So she left.  She left me with him because she couldn’t get her shit together and wait for another chance.”

Pete reached over and took one of Myka’s restless hands.

“And part of me,” Myka gasped, tears finally falling, “part of me understands. Because I know what that desperation feels like.  But how could she just leave me? Leave me and never come back?”

“Did she say why?”

“No,” Myka let the pain sweep through her body, “she never could tell me why she picked Tracy over me.”

 

Myka didn’t remember the drive back to the hotel. Or Pete helping her into their room. Or collapsing on the bed. Or falling asleep late in the afternoon as Pete sat next to her in silent support.

It was dark when she finally woke up with an arm draped around her mid section and a body tight against her own.

“What time is it?” she mumbled, lifting the dead weight of Pete’s arm (he always was a snuggler) off of her waist.

“Just past 10pm.”

“Helena?” Myka turned quickly in surprise.

“Hello love,” HG smiled. “I hope this is alright. Pete called me a few hours ago to update me on what had happened.  Wolly and I drove up as soon as we could.”

“You didn’t have to come,” Myka flushed with embarrassment.

“Of course I did,” HG pulled her closer. “You are in pain. Even if you don’t wish to talk about it I want to be here for you.”

Myka leaned in and kissed HG hard. “Thank you.”


	126. I’m glad that you can forgive, only hoping as time goes, you can forget

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are the smell before rain  
> You are the blood in my veins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready to board the post season 5 semi-cannon angst train! This is not a fix it and has Pyka (be warned). There's a few little nuggets in there for my long time readers as well. 
> 
> After the amount of Emo I've been listening to for that last stripper update, something like this was bound to happen.
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think!

She’d been back three weeks.  

In that time she’s worked a case with her new partner Steve whose calm approach was a perfect foil for her somewhat petulant mood as of late.

She’s worked with Caretaker to be Claudia on moving the Warehouse’s early 20th century technology into the 21st century.

(The girl was a marvel.)

She researched with Artie and they had worked well together. A surprise to them both given their turbulent past.  She supposed saving someone’s life in an alternative reality helped them to reach their current detente.

There were many positive things found working at Warehouse 12. It was clear that many had missed her presence and that she was transitioning well back to her role as Agent.

But watching Pete and Myka growing closer each day sapped any joy she felt at being back with the team.  Steve had told them of their sudden beginning, seemingly out of the blue and for a moment she wondered if an artifact had been involved.

Claudia had filled in a few more details of the why and how things had been going over the past few months.  Her friend hadn’t directly said anything but Helena could tell that it had taken some time for her to adjust to the idea of Pete and Myka (or Pyka as Pete called them) being a couple.

 

“She still cares,” Artie set down the file he was working on. “Myka.”

“I know,” HG spun her chair to look at the older man, caught off guard by his comment. “She cares about everyone.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

HG sighed. “From what I recall, a season spent sharing lingering glances and late night literary conversations does not a true relationship make. We’ve spent far more time apart than anything else.”

Artie chuckled. “I meant that you two can still be friends. It’s obvious that relationship is strained.”

“Oh,” HG blushed.

“As for your other thoughts,” he began.

“They are inconsequential.  I have not and will never be ‘the other woman’.”

 

It was true there was nothing more that friendship between them when she had last been part of the Warehouse team.  And that they had been on the path of repair prior to Boone, but now Myka’s time was spent in Pete’s room after dinner not in the library.

Instead of evening walks it was trips into town for dinner, or movies, or God knew what else.   Helena’s insomniac nature had caused her to accidently witness far too many heated hallway exchanges when they returned from the evening’s adventures.

There was no time for repair.

 

Six weeks, three retrievals and one mini-Warehouse disaster later Artie had declared a three day weekend for the team and headed for Atlanta.  Steve and Claudia flew to New Jersey to visit his mother.  Helena had volunteered to ‘hold down the fort’ having nowhere to go.

Much to her surprise, Myka had also to give Pete some family time with his mom and sister.

 

The first day found their routine very much the same as always.  Breakfast (albeit much quieter), a trip to the Warehouse, lunch in town and back to the B&B at the end of the day.  Conversations stayed on safe topics such as artifacts or Claudia’s progress as future Caretaker.

Saturday found Helena on the phone most of the day with her former office in Boone. There had been a break in an open case she had spent months working on and her replacement had questions.  Myka had left sometime mid morning to run errands and they didn’t see each other until well after dinner.

 

“Everything okay?”

Helena looked up from her book.

“With the case. From today.”

“Yes. I’m glad I had the foresight to keep my personal notes. It was a tricky one.” She smiled.  “And your day?”

“Fine. Just errands and stuff. It’s nice to take a break from work.”

Myka’s phone buzzed with a text.   Helena recognized the smile on the other woman’s face.

“And how is Pete?”

“He’s good,” Myka’s grin faded when her eyes met Helena’s.  “Sorry.”

“For what?”

The silence stretched on as neither woman spoke. 

Helena’s eyes returned to her book. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Myka said softly, stepping further into the room.  “About Pete.”

“There were several couples during my time at 12 Myka.  It’s not as uncommon as one might think.  It can be rather challenging to find someone compatible given what we do.”

“You did.”

“I wouldn’t call any of my dalliances a relationship.” She sighed.

“What about now?”

“What about it?”

“I,” Myka faltered.  “Sorry. I don’t know what I was trying to say.”

“Nate was doomed to fail,” HG began, closing her book and setting it in her lap.  Myka sat opposite her on the couch.  “As you so aptly said, I was running from my truth.  Giselle fell into the same category I’m afraid.”

Helena paused in thought for a moment.

“And now,” she began softly, looking down at the book in her hands, “the opportunities are limited once again I suppose. If something presented itself,” she looked at Myka as the emotions she felt for this woman rose to the surface, filling her eyes with the love she knew would always be there “then I shall be amenable.  But if it’s not meant to be, well then, I shall be content in my current state.”

Myka’s eyes held her for a moment before looking away.

“I’ve been a bad friend. We’ve barely talked about anything other than work since you’ve been back.”

“We’ve both been busy.”

“We’re always going to be busy,” Myka looked over at her again. “We’ll just have to make time.  Tell me about what you’re reading.”

 

For the rest of day two and most of the final day it was as if no time had passed.  The easy communication she and Myka had shared fell back into place. They joked and laughed, discussed literature and even broached the topic of the time of the Astrolabe.

But the moment Pete stepped through the door Helena’s heart sank.   The awkwardness was gone but the ease would never return.

The days stretched on much as they had before. Myka making an attempt every now and then to spend time with Helena but those moments were far fewer than the Victorian hoped.

She grew closer to Steven and Claudia, even began playing chess with Artie.

But it was never the same.

 

She had been with the Warehouse sixteen months when Mrs. Fredric appeared with a dangerous mission involving a doomsday artifact.  Helena had dealt with a similar curiosity during her time at 12, hoping that the end result of the mission wasn’t the same.

Losing an Agent was always difficult but three had nearly broken 12.  

It would devastate 13.

 

Helena G. Wells died on a Friday saving the world.  A service was held before he body was transported to Paris to be laid to rest next to her beloved Christina.  Myka was surprised by the number of people in attendance speaking with Nate and hugging Adelaide.  Meeting Giselle for the first and only time.  Recognizing a few fellow members of law enforcement, including the head coroner from Boston. Wondering who the tall man with the short red hair and his blonde female companion were.

So many of the unfamiliar faces offered their condolences to her in particular.

She tried not to think too much on that.

 

“We’ve moved HG’s room,” Artie had called her to the Warehouse the day after the service. He'd given everyone some time off to recover.  “But she had a few things for everyone.” He coughed. “In case.”

He reached into a box and pulled out a worn leather journal. “This is for you.”

Myka took the book gingerly, slowly opening to the first page filled with Helena’s words. 

Tears blurred her vision as she read the first lines over and over.

_For Myka..._

_You are the smell before rain_

_You are the blood in my veins_


	127. The internet is for…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helena half listened as the one in a million list of events that had happened to create their current situation was explained.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you follow me on twitter you might have a bit of an idea where this story came from. 
> 
> If not, you can still enjoy this bit of fluffy fluff set in my AU Warehouse world of 107 and 109. Post season 5 where everyone is there and happy.
> 
> Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think!

Helena half listened as the one in a million list of events that had happened to create their current situation was explained.

The town of Univille, including the Warehouse was without access to the internet for the foreseeable future. No wifi, no access via phone, only (maybe) dial up if they could track down an old modem and modify their equipment (not likely).  Something about phone towers and cables and something else all failing at the same time.

And it was not artifact related.

Artie had been dispatched to another secret Regent facility where “the miracle of the internet” (Claudia’s words) was still possible to monitor for artifact activity. The remaining Agents were to remain at the Warehouse completing the endless number of tasks while they waited to be sent on retrievals.

As someone alive prior to many modern conveniences, the loss of the internet was not as world shattering as it was to some of the team.  So as Artie packed his bags and the others sulked she made a mental list of who would break first.

That night as they prepared for bed, Helena revealed her thoughts to her lover.

“Very funny,” Myka rolled her eyes. “There’s no version of reality around where Steve would be more desperate for the internet that Pete.”

“I don’t think you realize just how much he uses his phone access information.”

“And what about you?” Myka slid under the blanket next to Helena.

“What about me? As is so often pointed I am so old that I was alive before even electricity was popular.  Why would I have an adverse response to the lack of the internet?”

“I’ve seen your browser history honey,” Myka smirked and leaned in for a kiss. “You’ll crack sooner than you think. Certainly before I would.”

“Care to wager on that Bering?”

“And what do I get when I win?”

“Me. Any way you’d like.”

“And if you win?”

“You in the same situation.”

“Deal.”

 

The rules were simple.  They wrote down in order who would complain about the lack of internet. Then exchanged lists and would compare notes nightly.  Whom ever recorded the earlier time earned a point.

If there was a tie it would come down to which one of them mentioned to the other or Claudia their thoughts on the lack of internet access. But if either one of them were caught complaining at any point before they were through the list they would automatically lose.

 

Day Three

“Man, this so SUCKS!” Claudia slapped her hands on the desk. She needed to cross reference one of the artifacts and attempted to pull up her access to The National Archives.

Myka and Helena had been filling out reports in the office. Both had picked Claudia as the first one to complain.

 

Day Four

“Hey Helena,” Steve popped his head around the corner to the library.  “Claudia and I are going to the movies. Wanna come?”

“Perhaps, what are you seeing?”

“That new Hunger Games movie. It’s playing in Featherhead.”

“What time does it start? I have lunch plans with Myka.”

“Let me see,” Steve pulled out his phone, frowning when he remembered. “Damn it.”

 

Helena barely refrained from saying ‘I told you so’ when she and Myka compared notes that night. 

“I am partnered with Steve on a regular basis,” Helena laughed as Myka pinned her to the bed.  “That’s how I knew I’d be right.”

“Such a know it all,” Myka murmured as she kissed down the other woman’s neck.  “I think I know a few things too.”

“You do,” Helena gasped. “You certainly do.”

 

 

 

Day Six

Myka slowed down as she reached the bottom of the steps.  Pete was in the living room with Claudia and Helena chatting.

“So I talked to Mrs. F and Artie this morning about our ongoing nightmare.”

“19 Kids and Counting?” Pete joked.

“No internet.” Claudia snarked back.

“It’s not so bad actually,” Pete replied.  “I’ve been going through my DVD collection. I’d forgotten I’ve got all the seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  Man that show was good.”

Myka stifled a laugh at the looks that must be on Helena’s and Claudia’s faces.

“What?” he continued a moment later. “You know that was a great show. Well, except for maybe that last season…”

“Claudia what did Mrs. Fredric have to say?” Helena cut off Pete’s ramble.

“That she pulled in some strings with the government and a couple of other places to get the Warehouse and the B&B back sooner than the rest of the town.”

“But,” Pete supplied.

“It’s going to be another three days.”

“Bollocks,” Helena cursed.

Myka grinned.

“Well I just stared season three,” Pete offered. “That’s when Faith comes to Sunnydale. She starts out as a baddie but joins the good guys by the last season.  You’d like her HG.”

Helena gave Pete a withering look. “I have no interest in your show.”

 

Myka rounded the corner as the trio made their way into the kitchen, bickering about Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  Pete was right, it was an excellent show but more importantly she’d overheard Helena’s grumble about the internet.

 

Day Two

After almost ten long days the internet was finally restored.  The backlog of events and research fell more woefully behind and Artie returned with a fury of tasks and assignments.

“Where're Myka and HG?” Pete asked as sat down at the breakfast table.

“They’ve got the day off,” Steve set down a plate of bacon. “They took off after dinner last night.”

“How come I didn’t know?”

“Season 4 remember?” Claudia replied.

“Oh yeah,” Pete stuffed more pancakes in his mouth. “This Year’s Girl was last night.  Best episodes of the season.”

“Over Hush?” Steve shook his head.  “No way.”

 

“Still arguing over teenage heroines I see,” Helena’s voice broke up the argument.

“Hey HG,” Pete greeted. “Where’s Mykes?”

“Upstairs. We just arrived home.  Is there still coffee?”

“When is there not,” Claudia replied.  With a nod the older woman headed towards the kitchen.

“Was HG walking with a bit of a limp?” Steve asked.

“A little,” Pete nodded.

“And what was with her hair,” Claudia added, “I’ve never seen a strand out of place.”

“Except for now,” Steve agreed.

“I wonder what they got up to last night?”  Claudia took a sip from her coffee.

The three exchanged knowing looks.

Some things you didn’t need the internet to understand.


	128. Calm me and let me taste the salt you breathed while you were underneath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helena had caught her under the mistletoe and pulled her into a kiss. He had managed to snap a picture just as they’d pulled back, breathless and eyes full of love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get your tissue ready, sea story au angst ahoy. Thanks for reading!
> 
> (For some reason I have the feeling that I've written this type of AU before, but I didn't see it anywhere. If I have, all apologies.)

It had been the last run.  The last of a season that had seen storms in the spring turning to calm seas in the summer.  It was a once in the century time where the work was easy and the haul was larger than normal.

That enough should have been warning that the return home would not be an easy one.  Engine trouble had given Captain Artie fits but the Donovan’s would not be stopped. And true to Josh and Claudia’s word, the engine was fixed in a day’s time.

 

“I know that look,” Myka said as she entered the bridge. “What’s wrong now?”

“Weather service just sent this out,” Steve handed her the news.  An early Nor’easter was blowing up the coast.

“Shit,” Myka’s eye grew wide.

“We need to get the ship ready,” Artie ordered from the wheel. “Lucky 13 has been through her fair share of storms. This is just like any other.”

“On it Artie.” Steve nodded and Myka followed him out the door.

She’d been part of the ship for years and Artie was right. They’d been through so many storms, even the one they called perfect her first season on the water over 10 years ago.

So why did she feel one of Pete’s bad vibes as they rallied the crew.

 

They were about four hours into the longest night of Myka’s life when Pete came to her below decks. They’d been friends since sixth grade growing up in the mid sized fishing town, hearing tales of glory from their fathers and grandfathers of days spent out on the ocean.

After college (for Myka) and the military (for Pete) they had found themselves both home for a summer. Needing money they’d signed up with Artie, thinking that they would move on after the season was over. But here they were. Pete a father of three and Myka a step mother of a precocious eight year old years later.

“Hey Mykes,” Pete plopped down next to her on the cot.

“Hey,” Myka closed her battered copy of The Time Machine. “What’s up Lattimer?”

“Nothing,” he sighed. She shook her head. They’d known each other too long.

“Bad vibe?”

“Yeah.”

“How so?”

“There’s only one that matters out here Mykes.”

Myka swallowed as the ship shook. The storm was getting worse.

 

 

The ship rolled violently and for a moment Myka thought that this might be it. But just as quickly they returned to a mostly vertical position.

“Damn,” Josh pulled himself up slowly from the ground, red slowly flowing down his head.

“Let me get that,” Leena pulled him towards the med kit in the small galley they were huddled in.

Myka jumped as the door blew open and a drenched Claudia staggered in. 

“We’ve dumped the haul,” Claudia looked over at an equally waterlogged Steve.  “And just about everything else that might bring us down.  Artie says if we can hold out a couple more hours we’ll be through the worst of it.”

“How far out are we?” Pete asked.

“Maybe fifty miles,” Steve replied. “Home stretch.”

Myka pulled out a photo she’d sealed in a water proof pouch years ago. It was a picture that Pete had taken at his annual Christmas party.  Helena had caught her under the mistletoe and pulled her into a kiss.  He had managed to snap a picture just as they’d pulled back, breathless and eyes full of love.

Helena had a similar look later that night when Myka had gotten down on one knee to ask the most important question of her life.

 

It was just past two in the morning when Myka had begun to make her peace.  She had been with Pete, Steve and Leena as they attempted to keep the engine room dry, working the pumps by hand since the power was hit or miss thanks to a big wave.  They didn’t need to be topside to feel when the ship had taken gone nearly vertical to climb a massive wave that had spit them out, plunging the bow into the cold Atlantic.

Lucky 13 was a fine ship but even she couldn’t take the stress.

And as fast as Claudia and Josh patched the fraying hull, two more leaks opened.

 

Myka pulled Pete into a tight hug as another huge swell battered the ship and the hull finally gave way, water rushing in faster than they could pump it out. He was the brother she had never had. The first to come to her defense when she’d been caught making out with Alice Pieszecki under the bleachers in freshman year.  The first to offer his condolences when her father had died.  He had stood next to her on a bright day in May as she and Helena had exchanged words of love and commitment.

The power went out as they made their way above deck, the wind and water making it difficult to see. But Myka didn’t need her eyes as the images of her love played through her mind. Of their first meeting at a coffee shop when Myka had spilled her drink over Helena’s lap and the conversation that had followed. Their first date. The first time that she’d met Helena’s daughter (and now her own) Christina.

All of the moments they’d shared.  All the love that would always be between them. Myka only wished she had one more chance to tell Helena how much she was loved. Would always be loved.

Lucky 13 groaned from the pressure as she sank below the dark water.  Before she slipped into her grave, green eyes caught sight of the lighthouse a few miles down from the harbor to home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So were heading towards another big number here with Vodka so I'd like to open things up a bit for a prompt or two as a thanks to the readers. I'm already taking part in a holiday fic thing on Tumblr so that base is covered. But, if you have any ideas you'd like to see or chapters of Vodka you'd like a part two or something like that, let me know. I'll be taking suggestions through the end of the month.
> 
> If you don't feel comfortable leaving ideas in comments, hit me up under the same name at fanfiction.net or over on Tumblr at MFAngeleeta. I know I've said this before, but I can't believe how many views Vodka has gotten. Thank you everyone.


	129. Cause nothing I know can break us down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Myka,” Helena thought for moment, “He who resembles God. Or in this case, a Goddess.”  
> “Really,” green eyes danced. “You come on strong don’t you?”  
> “Why waste time.” HG sipped her drink. “Your time is valuable and I am leaving in a few days. Shall we spend it negotiating or on the dance floor?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ask and ye shall receive Roadie and Grandhikewrites! I give you my final chapter in the long lost Wolf of Wall Street AU found in chapters 44, 58 and 95. And it's a fluffy happy ending. 
> 
> Thanks for the requests and keep them coming! All feedback and flames are apprecaited.

Myka grinned as she turned up the radio.  New York was a great city, a place that had finally rewarded her with the success that had eluded her for so many years in LA. But California was her home and her heart.

The Tony award winning actress grinned, glad that she had pulled the top down as she drove up the coast. She soaked up the sun while her hair blew behind her.  Spring was in the air the weather was nearly perfect for outdoor activities.

But there was only one activity she had in mind as of late.

 

_“So you’re leaving LA?” Steve had asked over brunch right after she landed her big break._

_“It’s only temporary,” Myka sipped her Mimosa. “I can’t stay with Leena forever when I’m there and I can’t afford the rent on two places.”_

_“Well what about…”_

_“Her plans haven’t changed,” Myka smirked.  “That Maxis gig is a done deal. After that we’ll see.”_

Myka turned up the volume on _Surprise_ thinking about what awaited her at the end of her drive.

 

_“Well you got out just in time,” Pete’s relieved voice came through the speaker. “We raided Stratton Oakmont last week. Man,” HG could image the frown on her friend’s face. “You guys did some shady stuff.”_

_“Many of my coworkers didn’t know when to not cross the line,” HG leaned back in her chair. “I managed to only come close.”_

_“Good thing,” Pete agreed. “And everything else?”_

_“Very good,” HG smiled. “You’ll have to come visit me soon.”_

_“Definitely.”_

Most of her Wall Street friends thought her insane when she announced that not only was she leaving the wolves, but she was moving to California to work for a video game company.

She’d justified her choice by wanting to ‘make sure her investment wasn’t wasted’ but in truth the change was what she needed.  And if HG had learned anything from her years as a trader it was to trust her instincts. 

Sipping her tea as she looked out over the ocean from her kitchen window, she smiled at the thought at just how right she’d been.

It had taken a few years (and a few failures) but the company had found its stride with a series of computer games that had made her quite a bit of money.  She had sold her share of the company for a tidy profit and was about to gamble on another upstart that allowed an easier search of the ever expanding world wide web.

Many people had talked about how the internet was going to be the future.

HG looked at the small box on the counter.  That was the only future that mattered.

 

The moon hung low in the sky. The silver light slowly crawled across the bedroom floor, revealing clothes scattered haphazardly around the room. Eventually the light made its way to a bed and its occupants wrapped around each other in recovery from strenuous activities.

“I love it,” Myka leaned in for a through kiss. “I love you.”

“And I you,” HG smiled as she snuggled into Myka’s chest.

Myka slid her left hand down the bare back of her soon to be wife. The diamond sparkling in the moonlight.

Six years, two coasts and countless hours spent longing for the other had led to this moment.

And neither woman would have it any other way.

 

_“May I buy you a drink?” Helena asked, emphasizing her accent._

_“Perhaps,” the woman replied with a smirk. “Will it lead to another?”_

_“One can only hope.” She signaled to the bartender.  “And after that?”_

_“We shall see,” the taller woman turned slightly and assessed Helena. “I don’t come cheap.”_

_“I would hope not.”_

_Sharp teeth bit a lip. “I’m Myka.”_

_“Myka,” Helena thought for moment, “He who resembles God. Or in this case, a Goddess.”_

_“Really,” green eyes danced. “You come on strong don’t you?”_

_“Why waste time.” HG sipped her drink. “Your time is valuable and I am leaving in a few days. Shall we spend it negotiating or on the dance floor?”_


	130. Baby don’t worry you know that you got me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re in love with her.”  
> “Very much so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking advantage of my day home sick with an update to that Stripper AU found in 102, 103, 106, 108, 111,113, 115, 118 and 125. This is the end of the main part of the story with an epilogue to bring us back to the start (so to speak. I remember how this story started out).
> 
> Thank you so much for your continued support of the Vodka series. When I started this madness a little over a year ago I never imagined how many chapters it would last or how many people would wind up reading. 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading and please let me know what you think!

_“You’ve got to give her credit,” Theo pulled a drag from her cigarette. “She’s a woman of her word.”_

_Myka turned the direction the older dancer had nodded. Her eyebrows rose as she watched Deidre in a heavy make out session with a shorter Hispanic girl._

_“I’ll say,” Myka blushed a little. The pair was on the far side of the club but it wasn’t quite dark enough to hide wandering hands._

_“She’s in love,” Leena smiled.  “For real this time,” she added, cutting off Theo’s almost retort._

_“How can you tell?” Myka asked._

_“I just know,” she sighed. “Are you ready? The last night can be a bit overwhelming.”_

_“I am.”_

The boys walked a few feet ahead of them arguing the merits of baseball as the all American sport.  Pete had gotten them all tickets and after the visit with her mom, Myka welcomed the distraction.  They would all be heading back to Chicago the following day and Pete back to Atlanta a couple days later.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather sit with Pete,” Helena asked as they reached their area. Their seats were a few rows apart from their companions.

“And break up that bromance?” Myka nodded towards Wolly and Pete, each with a loaded Brat in hand “No way.”

“They do seem quite smitten with the other.”

“See ya later!” Pete called as he and Will made their way down the aisle.

 

Myka settled in next to HG, explaining the game as the innings went on.  Even though she wasn’t a huge fan, you didn’t grow up in Atlanta and not know a thing or two about the sport. Helena had been to a Cubs game as a freshman “as part of a poorly planned date” and knew little about the game.

“What are you smirking about?” Helena asked during the third inning.

“You,” Myka replied. “Well, more so me getting to teach you something for a change.”  She glanced over, expecting a sassy retort but was met with something entirely different.

“You’ve taught me more that you realize Myka.” Helena leaned for a quick kiss on the cheek.  

 

 

“You’ve got some sweet Polka moves there HG,” Pete joked as the pair headed towards the concession stand for the final time.  It was the start of the eighth inning and booths were beginning to close.

“My maternal grandfather was always a fan,” she explained. “He would bring out his accordion when I was a young child at family gatherings. There are many embarrassing videos of my cousins and I dancing around to his music.”

The stood in silence for a moment as the line slowly moved forward.

“Before we get back,” Pete’s voice drew HG’s mind away from the many food options before them, “I wanted to say thanks. If you and Will hadn’t been there when that Sam creep found her.”

“Think nothing of it,” HG nodded. “He is lucky that my friends were there as well.”

“I’m glad were on the same page about that.”

“Indeed,” HG turned and met Pete’s eyes. “I will do all in my power to make sure Myka is taken care of in the manner she deserves.”

“You’re in love with her.”

“Very much so.”

“Awesome,” Pete grinned broadly. “Just make sure you pick out cool colors for your wedding. I don’t look so hot in pink.”

_It seemed fitting that the night before she left Atlanta for good she found her dad passed out on the couch.  At least he had made it home intact._

_For a moment she wondered what would happen when he didn’t have her around to make sure he survived the night. That cleaned up the mess he often left in his wake.  To make sure he got up in time for work after a binge night._

_She pushed that thought down quickly. He was a grown man and had made his choices years ago.  It was time he faced the consequences._

_Myka pulled the bottle from his hand and set it on the coffee table, screwing the cap on tight.  She grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and covered him up._

“Steve told me I could find you here,” Helena sat down next to Myka. “He mentioned you favored a bench by Regenstein.”

“Sometimes the music majors come outside to practice,” Myka unfolded her hands to take one of Helena’s. “It’s nice when you’re looking out over the lake.”

“As long as they’re good.”

“This is Northwestern,” Myka chided. “Of course they are.”

Helena laughed and leaned into the taller woman.

“How was your session?”

“Tough,” Myka let her mind drift. “Dr. Lewis told me that it’d get worse before it got better. But it is. I am. Getting better.”  She dropped a kiss on dark hair. “And how was your day?”

“Ugh,” Helena grumbled. “Three weeks into the quarter and already a major project looms. Luckily Wolly and I were paired together in Professor MacPherson’s class. I would have murdered MacPherson after a week if it wasn’t for him.”

Myka laughed. “So dramatic.”

“It’s true,” Helena pouted. “That man is a monster.”

“So I was wondering if you were free this Friday,” Myka asked. “Seems like that showing of Pal’s The Time Machine was quite the hit this summer. They’re bringing it back this weekend.”

“I’d love to go,” Helena leaned up and gave Myka’s jaw a quick kiss.

“And maybe we could go back to your place after?”  Myka leaned down for a more heated kiss.

“Of course,” Helena sputtered.

“Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS-  
> Don't forget I'm still taking prompts/requests through the end of the month as a thanks to the readers! Either leave your ideas in the comments here, as a PM for hermitstull on fanfiction.net or on Tumblr at MFAngeleeta.


	131. Langsam. Ruhevoll .Empfunden.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myka’s words were lost in her throat. She would never forget this vision that floated towards her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's a super fluffy update to my medieval au found in chapter 122. Shout out to Deathtodickens for the fantastic fan art for this au and Apparitionism for our ongoing Mahler discussion.
> 
> And special thank you to all of the readers who keep Vodka going strong! Please let me know what you think.

 

“You look so handsome,” Tracy smiled as she adjusted Myka’s tunic.  “This color works so well with your hair and your eyes.” 

She stood back and examined her sister from head to toe and smiled broadly.

“Are you sure?” Myka began to fiddle with the claps of her cape.

“Stop that,” Tracy rushed forward and swatted her hands away.  “Look for yourself.”  She spun the other woman around.

“Oh,” Lord Bering had never cared much for appearances, especially since her father had died and she’d spent the past year fighting to protect her lands.  But she had to admit she did cut quite the figure in her royal tunic.

“Your Lady will be beside herself,” Tracy hugged her from behind. “I know I would be.”

“You are too kind to your sister,” Myka bushed and turned.

“Myka,” Tracy shook her head. “You are too modest.  I know we haven’t always got along but what you’ve done,” she swallowed. “Thank you so much.”

The sisters embraced tightly as they fought back tears.

“Now let me go get Peter and we can get things started.” Tracy pulled back and hurried out of the chamber.

 

“I am so happy to see this day,” Claudia grinned as she sat to her brother and his beloved Steven.  The trio waited in a small side room next to the large chapel for the ceremony to begin.

“As am I,” Joshua agreed, taking Steven’s hand in his to kiss the back of it. “There is no better way to celebrate the end of war.”

“And the Solstice,” Claudia pointed out.

“And love,” Steven added.  “Most importantly love.”

“Have you seen Peter?” Tracy asked. The younger Bering sister her head around the corner.

“He was headed toward the kitchens,” Joshua explained. 

Tracy rolled her eyes. “I suspected as much.”

“Is it time?” Steven asked, standing.

“As soon as I gather Sir Latimer.”

 

 

“You look so beautiful Mummy,” Christina said as she twirled and laughed.

“As do you my darling,” Lady Helena smiled.

“My dress is so pretty. And it sparkles when I spin!”

“You do,” Helena agreed. “But perhaps it’s best if you sit still for a moment. I don’t want you to become ill all over your pretty dress.”

“I won’t,” Christian twirled a moment more then stopped.

“Now if you fidget,” Sophie chided as she straightened the collar of the gown again, “All of our hard work will be undone. “

“All apologies,” Helens replied. 

“You look lovely,” Sophie smiled. She had been with Lady Helena for years, raising her from a small child into the lovely woman before her.  “And far more radiant than the last time I saw you in a bridal gown.”

“Really?”

“Love, true love,” Sophie smiled.  “Shines above all others.”

“Mummy loves Lord Myka!” Christina shouted as she began to twirl again.

“Yes she does,” Sophie agreed.

“With all her heart,” Helena added.

“Oh wow,” Tracy Bering came around the corner. “Helena you are a vision.”

“Thank you.”

“Have any of you happened to see Sir Lattimer?” the younger Bering sister asked.

“Not today,” Helena replied. “Is there a problem?”

“No,” Tracy replied quickly not wanting to upset the bride. “Lord Bering wanted to speak with him before the ceremony. That’s all.  I’ll return to her chambers and let her know you are ready to begin.”

 

“Can this be,” Peter pulled his best friend into a tight hug. “Can this be the gangly young knight I first faced on the practice field those many years ago?”

He stepped back, his eyes glistening with joy at the sight of his best friend in her wedding attire. “Lord Bering you are stunning.”

“Thank you Peter.” Myka blushed.

“Finally,” Tracy rolled her eyes, seeing her sister and Sir Lattimer together. “Peter I have been looking everywhere for you.”

“All apologies Lady Bering,” Peter bowed. “I was in need of sustenance before the ceremony.”

“Lady Helena is ready Lord Bering.”

“Then let us begin this joyous day,” Lord Bering smiled.

 

“Stand still,” Peter chided as he stood next to Myka at the front of the great church. 

Myka sighed as she watched the Lords and Ladies be seated.  If she had her druthers, the Lady Helena would have been her wife in a simple ceremony performed months ago. But with her new status building relationships was important.

Luckily the King had declined her invitation.

“Lord Sykes wears the eye patch well,” Steve quipped as they watched their former foe be seated.

“Remind me to thank Sir Secord again for his service,” Myka replied with a smirk.

After what seemed an eternity, the last of the royalty was seated.

“And here we go,” Peter whispered.

 

“A moment,” Lady Helena said as she moved away from her entourage.  She needed a moment to compose herself, to ready herself for her soul mate.

She had been nervous during her first wedding. Nervous due to the arranged nature, the lack of consideration for her feelings, the desperation of her brother, his desire to sell her off.

Her husband had been a decent man. Gentle and kind but sickly. There was a fondness in her remembrance of him but not love. Not passion.

She had been saddened by his death but not devastated. Not nearly the emptiness she had felt when she had clutched at Lord Bering as her love left for war.  Nor the joy she had felt when word had reached the castle as the news of Lord Bering’s final victory over Sykes.

Myka was her one.

“Are you well Mummy?” Christina pulled at her hand.

“I am.” She smiled. “Are you ready to be my pretty flower girl?”

“Yes!” Christina smiled.

“Let let us pause no longer,” Lady Helena squared her shoulders. “Lord Bering is waiting.”

 

“She is a sight,” Peter commented as Lady Helena made her way down the aisle.

“Indeed,” Steven agreed.

Myka’s words were lost in her throat. She would never forget this vision that floated towards her.

 

#### 


	132. I wish…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helena leaned down and kissed Myka thoroughly.   
> “And what was that for,” Myka asked huskily.  
> “For being what I wished for.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays! This is my Secret Santa submission for Goldenwanderer over on Tumblr. 
> 
> So I started a holiday story for Wells and Wollcot and another for Vodka and neither was working so I did a bit of a mash up that I'm hoping works. It'll make more sense if you've read The Adventures of Wells and Wolcott so you know the characters from that universe.
> 
> Thanks everyone for reading and I hope you have a great holiday!

“That was fun!” Pete was beaming as they all left the theater. 

“I told you,” Claudia grinned and looked over at Steve. “Well mister ‘this gay doesn’t like musicals’?”

“Pete’s right,” Steve admitted. “I liked it.”

“How can you not like Meryl? She’s like a living artifact.” Claudia joked.

 

Myka smiled as the trio on front of her debated the movie they’d just scene as she waited for Helena to finish in the restroom.

“Hello love,” Helena kissed Myka’s cheek.

“Hey,” she took her lover’s hand. “What did you think?”

“I quite enjoyed it.  I am curious to see the original production though,” Helena squeezed back. “I suspect it was much darker.”

“It was,” Myka shrugged, “but you know, Disney and all.”

“The story was ingenious,” Helena continued as they followed the rest of the team out into the night. “The blending of so many fairy tales in such an interesting way.”

“And that ‘ever after’ isn’t always quite what you’ll think it’ll be,” Myka added. “Sometimes those wishes give you more than you bargain for.”

“True,” Helena slowed and pulled Myka in for a kiss. “In fiction.”

“Come on you too,” Pete called. “Enough with the PDA. It’s cold!”

Myka just pulled Helena closer.

 

Two days later the team continued to enjoy the slow holiday period. Artie was out of town, leaving Myka in charge and with a never ending list of inventory. Claudia and HG were deep in the Warehouse replacing a worn section of the Gooery’s piping.

“Man this has been a great holiday,” Pete said as he marked another item off his list.

“It has,” Myka agreed. “No crazy last minute case. No alternate realities.”

“HG’s back.”

“Yeah.”

Pete chuckled at the dreamy expression on his partner’s face.  “Do you ever wonder if she misses her pals from back in the day?”

“From Warehouse 12?”

“Yeah. I mean she’s got you and us and we are obviously team awesome but she seemed pretty tight with her crew from all the stories she tells.” He paused.  “You know before the crazy set in.”

Myka looked up from her clipboard to respond, noticing the artifact he was standing in front of.

“Pete,” she warned.

“I wish we could meet that team from Warehouse 12.” Pete sighed. “That would be so cool.”

“Pete!” Myka rushed over.

“What?”

“Look!” Myka pointed at one of the bricks from the original wishing well which had a slight glow.

“Oh shit.”

 

 

Leena hummed as she worked on dinner.  She had found an old recipe that had been in her family for generations that was one of Helena’s favorites.  The innkeeper wanted to do something special for the Victorian, knowing the holiday season was always a little more difficult.

The loud bang from the living room caused her to drop her spoon.

Not expecting anyone back from the Warehouse so soon, she cautiously crept into the living room.

 

“Bloody hell.”

“You can say that again Duncan. Where are we?”

Leena watched as the men stood slowly.  They were clearly out of place given their 1890s style dress and accents but both were familiar.

“It appears to be some sort of living area. Though like none I have ever seen before.”

“This is payback,” McShane frowned.

“Surely not.”

“You know HG. She promised to get us back for losing that bet.”

“Helena wouldn’t,” Wolcott trailed off. “Bollocks.”

Suddenly Leena realized who was before her.

“Excuse me,” she slowly stepped into the living room. “I think I might be able to help.”

 

 

“Wait,” Claudia put her hands on her hips. “Goo came from a bird?”

“Yes,” HG passed down the old section of pipe. “Did you not read the history section of the manual?”

“The manual has its own room now HG.”

“Your point,” she held out her hands for the new section of pipe.

“You and Myka are so made for each other.” Claudia rolled her eyes.

“The same process that Isidore used to create vodka was first used in Warehouse 11 to create goo. We refined the process at 12.”

“Really?”

“Not me personally,” HG finished securing the section of pipe and came down the ladder.  “It was Chataranga.”

Helena turned and froze eyes wide. “Oh my God.”

“What is it HG?” Claudia whirled around, reaching for her mini Tesla.

“Helena? Is that you?” the older woman that had appeared at the end of the aisle asked. “Why are you dressed so strangely?”

“You know this chick HG?”

“Agent Donnelly,” HG fought back tears.

 

Pete and Myka burst into the office.

“Steve have you,” Myka trailed off. 

“I guess the answer is yes,” Pete whispered.

Steve was tied to the office chair.  An elderly looking man in Victorian dress sat on the couch. Another man in similar dress stood behind Steve while a third towered over their friend.

“Answer the question!” he shouted in a thick cockney accent.

“Agents,” Myka spoke up, pulling their attention away from Steve. “We can explain.”

“An artifact,” the older man spoke from the couch.  “We know.”

“Agent Holcomb,” Myka greeted, recognizing one of the most famous Agents in Warehouse history.  “I’m Agent Myka Bering and this is…”

“Peter Lattimer,” Patel spoke from behind Steve. “We know. Agent Jinks has told us the current roster for Warehouse 13.”

“And that’s where we have a problem,” Holcomb spoke from the couch, “there is no way…”

“Albert!” Helena shouted from the door.

 

 

“So Claudia,” Myka asked as she watched Helena interact with her fellow Warehouse 12 Agents. There was obvious friendship and affection.  An ease with the others that she hadn’t seen before.  She could tell that her love was struggling with the non answers she had to provide. The four Agents were clearly from a time period before Christina’s death and Helena’s bronze sentence.

“A brick from the first wishing well,” Claudia pulled up the artifact on her computer screen. “Grants heartfelt wishes. Downside is the wish only lasts for 24 hours. And causes impotence.”

“What!” Pete paled.

“Calm down,” Claudia laughed. “I made up that last part.”

The door to the umbilicus opened.

“Hey guys,” Leena called. “I found some….I guess you already know.”

“Hello all,” Wolcott greeted.  “It seems that we have done a bit of time travel.”

“Wolly.”

Helena couldn’t help the tears that fell as she saw her old partner.  She rushed across the room and pulled him into a tight hug.

“Hello Helena. Leena tells me it’s been quite some time since we’ve last spoken.”

“It has,” HG pulled back.  “I have missed you so.”

Dinner that night was quite the riotous affair with the combined Agents of two Warehouses.  They wound up spreading into the sun room with most of 13’s Agents eating in there to give Helena time with her friends.

“Everyone seems to be holding up okay,” Pete observed.

“They’re Warehouse Agents,” Claudia piled more potatoes on her plate. “Bull told me he once spent a day in ancient Capua.  The artifact he was hunting took him back and he almost had to fight as a Gladiator.”

“My money would be on him,” Pete replied.

“How’s she doing?” Steve asked as he watched Myka watch Helena.

“Okay for now.  But she’ll need a break soon.”

Steve had been Helena’s main partner since her return ten months earlier.  Slowly they had warmed to each other but he would never know her like Myka did.

“We’ll take care of it.”

 

Myka found Helena sitting on the back porch next to Wolcott. Steve had prompted Claudia into asking about life at Warehouse 12 and the visitors had begun to spin story after story.

McShane had told an especially funny tale about his first case with HG involving geese.

And Helena was there with them, until she wasn’t. 

 

“So this is what you told McGivens?  The Dakotas? What did he say?”

“Let’s just say by the time the location of Warehouse 13 was revealed I had other things on my mind Wolly.”

“Another story that can’t be told?”

“Many things occur after 1895 I’m afraid.  Things that I would desperately like to change.”

“But?”

“The ink in which our lives is inscribed is indelible my dear Wolcott,” Helena smiled sadly. “I’ve learned that lesson many times over.” She sighed. “And I would have never met Myka.”

“She’s good for you, your Myka.  I can tell.”

“Really?” HG quirked a brow.

“You’ve done well in hiding your past but I must assume that the only reason that I find you so far in the future is that something happened to Christina.  You would never willing leave your child if she were living. That I know for certain.” Wolly explained. “And that must have led to a series of most unfortunate events.  There’s a sadness that haunts you Helena. One that was not present before. But when Myka enters the room that melancholy subsides.”

“When did you come to know me so well?” she asked, leaning on his shoulder.

“Six weeks trapped in Mr. Francis’s boarding house changes you.”

HG chuckled. “Never change Wolly.”

Myka smiled and slipped back into the house unseen.

 

 

“What are you doing with those old reports,” Helena asked. The Warehouse 12 Agents had returned to their time a few days before.  “Still checking to see if the timeline was affected?”

“If it was I can’t find it,” Myka closed the dusty ledger. “I’ve read all the reports from your stint in the States. No mention of time travel, but a long letter by Patel about snow.”

“He grew up in the streets of Mumbai.  Patel had never seen so much snow.” Helena chuckled. “We spent an evening discussing winter while marooned in Univille.”

“Over 100 years ago.” Myka shook her head.  

“It was,” Helena leaned on Myka’s desk. “It was lovely to see everyone again. Especially from before,” she paused, “from before Christina’s death. I will have to thank Pete for his wish. It was a wonderful though unexpected Christmas gift.”

“It was nice to see you with them,” Myka reached for Helena’s waist, pulling her closer.

Helena leaned down and kissed Myka thoroughly.

“And what was that for,” Myka asked huskily.

“For being what I wished for.”


	133. All day I wait and wait to hear her footsteps on my walkway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helena kissed along Myka’s neck as she spoke.  
> “And so,” the other woman gasped as Helena’s hands drifted lower. “I thought I could spend time here.”  
> “Brilliant idea love,” Helena leaned up and kissed Myka deeply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there was a request by Muddypuppy452 over on the Tumblr for an alternate ending to my truckstop AU found in chapters 119 and 120. The first half of the story remains the same but there's a much happier alternative this time around.
> 
> Thanks again for reading and don't forget I'm taking prompts through the end of the month!

“I know you love that ring,” Artie called from the kitchen, pulling Helena from her reverie, “but we’ve got a full house and the plates are backing up.”

“Sorry,” HG blushed and grabbed a tray.

“Young love,” the head cook rolled his eyes but Helena caught the smile he tried to hide.

 

“Congrats HG,” Will grinned as HG set down his heart attack special.

“Have you guys set a date?’ Duncan asked as he smothered his omelet in hot sauce.

“Not yet boys, but I expect both of you there.” Will and Duncan hadn’t seen her since Myka asked for her hand a week before. Her best friends in the two stoplight town had been out working the oil fields until a couple of days ago.

“There,” Will sighed dramatically, “I was expecting to be in the wedding.”

“We’ll see,” Helena smirked.

 

It seemed as if many of the regular customers at the Flying J had got wind of Helena’s engagement, including several of the long haul truckers who joked about not making a move quick enough. Many of them knew Myka well and were glad for them both. It was refreshing considering this part of the state wasn’t known for its progressive ideas. Ten years ago living where she did and being a waitress, well there was no way that would ever had happened.

But she had needed to get away from the city and her past. Of mistakes made and opportunities lost.  She’d been heading somewhere else when she pulled into the Flying J, needing a break from the road. She almost didn’t see the ‘help wanted’ sign on the counter.

 

“I’m going to take a break,” Helena said to Rebecca.  The dinner crowd had died down and she hadn’t spoken to Myka yet today.

“Tell your girl hi for me,” the petite redhead called as Helena headed out the back exit for some privacy.

“Hey,” Myka’s warm voice greeted.

“Hello my love,” Helena signed. “I miss you. How was your day?”

Helena spent all of her fifteen minute break on the phone with her finance. Myka was on her way to California and wouldn’t be coming her way for another couple of torturous weeks.  Myka had applied to become a State Trooper and with Officer Donovan and Jinks’ recommendations had been accepted into the academy.   In six week’s time they would be sharing HG’s one bedroom apartment.

But six weeks was far from now.

“Be safe.  I love you.” She finished the call and took a moment to compose herself.

 

“Todd called while you were on the phone with Myka.  His dad is running late.”

“How late?” Helena sighed.  She couldn’t leave until Todd got there.

“A couple of hours.  He got hung up at the hospital and Todd needs to watch his sister.”

“Okay.” Helena frowned. She’d left her charger at home and her phone would soon be dead.

 

“I’m so sorry HG,” Todd practically ran into the diner, over three hours late. “Kelly is sick so dad wanted me to be there.”

“It’s okay,” Helena pushed down the wave of sadness that always came when Todd mentioned his younger sister. She was the same age Christina had been when the accident happened.

“You don’t happen to have your phone charger with you?”

“Android,” Todd held up his phone.  “Sorry.”

“Oh and congrats,” he smiled. “Leena told me. Myka seems really cool.”

“Thank you.”

 

Helena set her keys down on the kitchen counter and sighed.

“Hey you,” she greeted as a large tabby hopped up ready for attention. “What have I told you about the counters sir,” she picked up the cat and set him back on the floor.

Opening the fridge she pulled out a soda and some leftovers from last night’s dinner and sat down on the couch for a quick snack. Remembering her phone, she grabbed it out of her purse and plugged it in.

“Finally,” she whispered as her iPhone sprang to life.  There was a missed call from her brother in Boston, followed by a text asking about wedding arrangements. Leena had sent an email with an updated work schedule.

But there were four texts from Myka, each with a picture.

At the third picture Helena felt her heart begin to beat faster. She recognized that rest stop as one about 100 miles west of the Flying J.

The fourth picture was taken a couple of hours later at Exit 353 about twenty minutes ago.

As she sat there her phone chimed again with a fifth text from Myka. It was picture of her front door.

Helena leapt off the couch and ran the short distance to the door, pulling in open as quickly as she could.

“Hey,” Myka stood on the other side next to a large suitcase. “Surprise.”

Helena flung herself into Myka’s arms, pulling her down into a heated kiss.

“Hello my love,” she murmured when they broke for air.

A loud wolf whistle pierced the night.

“Looking good ladies,” McShane shouted from the parking lot.

“Shall we take this inside?” Myka asked, pulled back slightly.

“Let’s.”

 

 

“And so I got done with my run earlier than I thought.” Myka pulled Helena tighter to her, running her hand up and down her lover’s bare back.  “Artie told me that I had enough vacation saved up to take the next few weeks off.”

Helena kissed along Myka’s neck as she spoke.

“And so,” the other woman gasped as Helena’s hands drifted lower. “I thought I could spend time here.”

“Brilliant idea love,” Helena leaned up and kissed Myka deeply.

 


	134. Dance with me and shake your bones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Myka stood in a form fitting black cocktail dress in one of the most exclusive parties in London, she was beginning to wonder if this snag and back was heading towards Blackout. It had started in yellow but as things began to twist and turn the entire team (save Artie) had made the trek across the Atlantic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a little bonus holiday fic to round out 2014! It's happy and fluffy and a fix it.
> 
> I don't think I can say this enough but thank you for reading, commenting and kudo-ing Vodka. The fandom love this has gotten both here and on Tumblr continues to blow me away. 
> 
> And as always, please let me know what you think! 
> 
> Have a great NYE and see you in 2015!

Over the years Myka had developed a ranking system for artifact retrievals.  After mentioning it to Pete and Claudia they had refined the system and even came up with a chart that sat in the corner of Artie’s office. They had all decided after a heated debate that Myka’s color system was the best way to categorize the level of difficulty.

Yellow was the easiest retrievals, when you could simply buy the artifact or someone would just give it to you without a lot of fuss.

Orange weren’t quite as easy as yellow but only took a couple of days and a little investigation.

Red was the most common. A pain in the ass which fake outs, elusive artifacts and owners who wouldn’t give up the goods without a fight.

Violet were the most difficult. Ones that required the entire team and life and death were the stakes. War artifacts, ancient artifacts and religious artifacts dominated. But the worst were those from classic era Hollywood.

But every now and then they’d have that special unicorn retrieval they called a Blackout.  Looking at their system, the Minoan Trident, Walter Sykes and Paracelsus all fell into that category.

 

As Myka stood in a form fitting black cocktail dress in one of the most exclusive parties in London, she was beginning to wonder if this snag and back was heading towards Blackout.  It had started in yellow but as things began to twist and turn the entire team (save Artie) had made the trek across the Atlantic.

“Anything,” Steve asked, handing her a flute of Champaign.

“Nothing yet,” Myka took a sip. “Seems like our friend the Count is going to be a late arrival.”

“Claude’s got eyes on everything,” Steve slid next to the taller woman. “We’ll know when he gets here.”

“How’s Abigail holding up at the bar?” Myka asked.

“Enjoying herself actually,” Steve smiled. “She told me that she hasn’t got hit on so many times in years.”

“And she liked that?”

“She said when it’s lord this and princess that she’s okay with the added attention.”

“Maybe we should have made Pete bartender then,” Myka mused.

“He’s fine playing bodyguard for our host.”

 

“Guys,” Claudia’s excited voice broke in over their ear pieces. “Our boy’s limo just pulled up.”

“Game time,” Steve opened his coat and moved his Tesla within easy reach.

“Hold up,” Claudia’s voice came through again. “Is that?”

“What is it Claude,” Myka asked.

“He’s not alone.”

 

Pete had the perfect vantage point to see the Count’s arrival to the hoighty toighty New Year’s Party they were working.  His vibes had been on overtime during this case so he had just assumed the weird feelings he’d felt since the party started were standard.

Looking at his partner’s face as she watched the Count enter  he now knew exactly what his vibes were about.

Mrs. Fredrick had told them she was brining in extra help. They just didn’t know who.

“I thought she was in Boone,” Pete whispered into his hidden mic.

“She left Nate and was dating some chick,” Claudia replied.

“That ended,” Myka rasped eyes wide as saucers. Turning quickly she pulled Steve aside for a moment.

“So HG’s back with the Warehouse? Sweet.” Claudia grinned.

“At least for this case,” Steve looked at Myka, face filled with concern.

It took a few moments but Myka wiped the shock from her face.

“Let’s get Hitler’s tie clip,” she grumbled. “And then I need to have a conversation with a certain time traveler.”

 

 

“So,” Myka leaned casually against Abigail’s bar.

“Mrs. Fredric asked for assistance on this case,” HG explained.  She had drifted from the Count’s side to gather a drink for herself.  “I am in-between employment at the moment and London is lovely this time of year.”

“You couldn’t call? Write? It’s been months since we last talked.”

“I know,” HG’s hands had frayed the napkin under her glass. “Any excuse I might have will not be adequate to explain my silence. But I am ever so glad to see you. Even under these circumstances.”

Myka looked up as HG spun and headed back to the count.

 

It was 11:43pm and the team had the artifact in hand. The Count was on his way to jail and the party was back in full swing.  Claudia had come downstairs from her tech lair and Abigail had been released from behind the bar.

“How long are you going to sit here and glare at her?” Steve nodded towards HG who was currently on the dance floor with Pete and Claudia.

“For the rest of this year.  If not longer.”

Steve chuckled. “I overheard her telling Claude some stuff. You might want to talk to her.”

“And find out when she’s going to leave again? To hear about her latest love interest?”

“We don’t know if she’s leaving,” Steve replied. “And we’ve all had a few boyfriend mistakes, haven’t we?”

Myka turned her glare on Steve. She and Pete had sworn to never speak of the two week dating debacle ever again.

 

At 11:53pm Myka found Helena standing outside on the freezing terrace.

“Here,” Myka set Steve’s coat on slim shoulders.

“Thank you,” Helena pulled the jacked tighter.  “Is that Pete’s?” she pointed to a matching jacket on Myka.

“Yeah, I knew I’d be cold coming out here.”

“I just needed to cool down for a bit. Pete and Claudia are a dance floor team to be reckoned with.”

“That they are,” Myka fell silent.  “You’re not so bad yourself,” she added bitterly after a moment.

Helena sighed. “I know. And I am sorry.  There are many things and many reasons behind my madness,” she swallowed. “But nothing will change the fact that I’ve been a poor friend. I hope that with the coming of the New Year I’ll be given an opportunity to rectify that opinion of me.”

“You’re coming back to the Warehouse?”

“As a consultant. I’ll live in the area and work with Mr. Keeler as an archivist mostly.”

“The Regents still don’t trust you?”

“Not at all. I simply do not want to be a full time part of that form of endless wonder anymore. I hope to find something better.”

Helena chuckled at the confused look on Myka’s face.

“Will you join me on the dance floor? It’s only a few minutes to midnight.”

 

Claudia was the first to notice, spinning Steve on the dance floor so he could see.

Pete, getting a super warm and fuzzy vibe found his partner and smiled as he twirled Abigail.

 

“Finally,” Helena whispered as she pulled back from the kiss.

“You can say that again,” Myka agreed resting her head on the other woman’s as the crowd counted down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've also updated the complete playlist for this series. Check it out at http://8tracks.com/mfangeleeta/the-vodka-made-me-do-it


	135. The Layover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The other woman feeling eyes on her turned. Helena knew she should look away, tried to look away, was desperate to look away or look down or something but she couldn't. To her credit, the other woman stood frozen as well, equally caught.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was taking prompts tonight and this lovely one came from Crazycat9449:
> 
> While Your Lips Are Still Red :- Write about your character falling in love at ‘first sight’ but simply admiring the other from afar, too shy to make the first move. 
> 
> So here you go. Thanks so much for reading and as always please let me know what you think!

Helena sighed as she stood in front of the Departures board. All of the flights were now grounded thanks to the latest Polar Vortex to sweep this part of the country. And since her flight had been one of the last ones in, all the hotels were booked.

Sighing she pulled her carry on behind her as she walked the concourse hoping that something was still open. She needed food and some snacks before she picked her corner of the airport to crash for the night.  Luckily they’d kept the Chili’s Too open for the poor unfortunate souls trapped by the snow.

 

She’d just settled down in a section away from the TV’s playing CNN on a loop but within sight of her gate when her attention was captured by a brown haired woman coming out of the restroom.  A glimpse of gentle curls had flashed beyond the top of last week’s Forbes she was attempting to read.  Helena let the magazine slip down, captivated by the beauty before her.

The other woman feeling eyes on her turned. Helena knew she should look away, tried to look away, was desperate to look away or look down or something but she couldn’t.  To her credit, the other woman stood frozen as well, equally caught.

Suddenly the PA came to life, announcing that all airport serves would be closing in fifteen minutes. The spell was broken. The woman smiled briefly and moved towards the Departure listings three gates over.

 

Myka scanned the Departure times and frowned. Her flight back to Denver was still showing its original time which had long passed and no new flights were listed for tomorrow.  The last time she’d been trapped by a blizzard she’d gotten a hotel room but luck was against her this time.

Or was it? She thought of the striking woman reading a magazine that had starred her down by the restroom. There was something about that dark hair, those dark eyes, that pulled her in instantly.  She glanced down the hallway and saw the woman was still in the corner, reading her magazine with a small travel blanket on her lap.

Smiling, Myka headed back towards the restrooms to find a spot in front of what she hoped to be her new flight’s gate. And closer to the mystery woman.

 

For the next several hours Helena dozed, read and kept an eye on her new friend several rows of chairs over. She had been on a cancelled flight to Boston and hoped that one of these gates would be the door to freedom once the storm cleared.  Sleepy green eyes would make their way over to hers form time to time, brining a smile to a darling face.  Helena would return a soft smile, sigh and return to reading or dozing.

As night turned to day the storm eased and hope spread through the hundreds of stranded travelers. Helena’s cell phone beeped with news of a rescheduled flight for later that day.  She slowly pulled herself awake, joints protesting loudly at being stuck in a chair for so many hours.

Looking over, she frowned when she saw that the beautiful stranger was no longer sitting a few rows over.  Her bag and satchel were gone also.  Helena stood and looked around the area, not seeing her silent friend anywhere. She felt something pull violently in her chest, like a part of her was now missing.

“Indigestion,” she grumbled, packing her blanket and grabbing her roller as she headed towards the ladies room.

 

So lost in her own musings Helena nearly ran into a woman coming out of the rest room

“Sorry,” she apologized as she moved off to the side.

“It’s okay,” a soft voice replied.

And for a moment they was barely any space between them. Myka felt her breath quicken as the dark haired beauty’s eyes widened.   

“Excuse me,” an elderly woman with a young girl in tow spoke up from behind Myka.

“Sorry,” she quickly moved out of the way to let the pair through.

She caught the smirk of red lips and a flash of dark hair passing her by when she regained her senses.

 

Myka clutched her Starbucks tightly as the dark haired woman was swallowed up by the masses boarding the next flight to Boston.  She watched in dismay as the woman handed over her ticket and disappeared into the jet way followed by the elderly lady with the young girl from earlier.

She felt a sudden emptiness now that her new friend, new acquaintance, new nothing (really) was gone.  Shaking her head she headed back to her seat from the night. Denver was still half a day away and she might as well try to nap just a little bit longer.

Reaching into the pocket of her coat for her phone she felt something unexpected. Pulling out the small rectangular square she smiled at the name on the front.

“Helena G Wells,” Myka whispered, memorizing the email address and phone number.  


	136. Midnight, the Stars and You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Good evening Miss Wells,” Lloyd smiled as he poured her Scotch neat.  
> “Hello,” HG gave an uneasy smile. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen Miss Bering tonight have you?”  
> “I haven’t,” he replied, “but you might want to check with Mr. Torrance. I believe the spoke earlier tonight just as the party was starting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Science fiction will always be the genre I hold closest to my heart. Horror, though, comes in a close second.
> 
> So here's that The Shining (movie version)/Bering and Wells mash up you never know you wanted.

“Can’t this thing go any faster?” Pete growled from the passenger’s seat.

“I’m driving as fast as I can,” Steve didn’t dare look away from what he thought was the road. The whiteout conditions were making it hard to tell. “Try getting them on the Farnsworth again.”

Pete flipped open the screen.

“Damn it, answer!”

 

“It’ll be just like old times they said,” Claudia whispered as she peaked around the corner.  Slowly she crept out into the empty hallway.  “We haven’t gone on a mission together in ages.  Plus Colorado is so lovely in the fall.”

The second she stepped out of the rental car she knew this mission was a mistake.  This building, The Overlook Hotel, was nowhere near as old as The Warehouse but she could feel it whispering to her, like the Warehouse sometimes liked to do.  But there was something sinister about The Overlook, about the murmurings in the back of her brain that had only gotten worse the longer they had stayed.

A rash of bizarre happenings at the historic hotel that appeared to be artifact related had sent Claudia, Myka and HG to what appeared to be an easy mission. The hotel was closing down for the winter and it would be just a handful of employees around while they investigated. Artie suspected several artifacts were working throughout the property, potentially together, and a small civilian presence would lessen the danger to everyone.

But like always things became a bit more complicated when the caretakers disappeared three days in. Then an early blizzard swept across the mountains, effectively trapping them until the weather cleared and Artie could ‘send in the chopper.’

She still thought the hotel had created the storm to trap them.

“Shit,” she hissed, frozen as a hotel door slowly swung open to reveal a man in a boar costume blowing another man in a tux.  Slowly both men turned to stare at her in the hallway.

“Fuck,” she took off running in the opposite direction.

 

 

“This is an artifact created delusion,” HG growled, pushing her way through the crowd in the main ballroom.  Known as The Gold Room, the legendary hall had seen everyone from Louis Armstrong to Al Bowlly play its stage.

It was difficult for HG not to get sucked in. The music (from the 1920s) the crowd (early Jazz Age) with dapper men and beautiful woman spoke more of time closer to her own than the modern era. She would have been in her elder years but would have appreciated the spirit of freedom this time possessed if she had lived her life properly.

Now she supposed she should have listened to Claudia days ago when she’d suggested to hotwire one of the broken snow cats and flee this place.

“Good evening Miss Wells,” Lloyd smiled as he poured her  Scotch neat.

“Hello,” HG gave an uneasy smile. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen Miss Bering tonight have you?”

“I haven’t,” he replied, “but you might want to check with Mr. Torrance. I believe the spoke earlier tonight just as the party was starting.”

HG felt a chill run down her spine. Mr. Torrance was one of The Overlooks’ most notorious Caretakers who had frozen to death after attempting to murder his family some 30 years ago.

 

“Hey there girls,” Claudia took step back as the two twins in bright blue dresses moved closer.  “I’ll just take another hallway.”

“Come play with us Claudia. Come play with us.”

“I’m all good here,” she replied continuing to move back. “Not looking to join the permanent guest list at Motel Hell just yet.”

She recognized the twins who had been murdered in the 1940s by their father, one of the waiters who later took his life.

Claudia turned and hurried down another hallway, deciding to try her luck on the main floor.

“This place is way worse than that house in California.”

Suddenly her Farnsworth sprung to life.

“Sweet merciful Zeus,” Claudia exhaled as HG’s face filled her screen. “Where are you?”

“I’ve just left The Gold Room,” HG replied, glancing behind her.

“Sounds like the party is in full swing,” Claudia noted as the faint sound of music drifted through the speakers. “Did you say hi to Jay Gatsby for me?”

“He sends his regards,” HG replied sarcastically, “have you seen Myka?”

“I thought she was with you?”

“She was.”

“And?”

“Something happened. She shot me with her Tesla. I awoke in one of the cold storage units in the kitchen.”

“How did you get out?”

“I have many skills.”

“Okay Xena, meet me in the main lobby by the elevators. We can search this house of horrors together and then get the frack out of here.”

 

 

“Oh God,” HG froze.

Myka, holding an ax loosely in her hands, stood over Claudia who was sprawled on the lobby floor.

“Myka!” HG shouted, pulling her partner’s attention away from the other woman.

“Hello love,” Myka smiled. “I missed you.”

“And I you,” HG’s eyes moved to the ax which shimmered in the light.  This must be the artifact behind Myka’s strange behavior.

“Claudia was just keeping me company until you arrived,” Myka took a step towards HG. “Mr. Torrance said that you both would be coming to see me soon and that I should be ready.” She spun the ax in her hands.

“Really,” HG slowly moved her hand towards her Tesla. “And what else did he say?”

“That he was glad we’d finally found our way back here. To our home.”

“My love you know our home isn’t here. It’s the Warehouse.”

“I left the Warehouse once,” Myka continued to move closer, “you’ve left countless times.  You might again.”

“You know that’s not true.”

“Do I?” this version of Myka knew HG almost as well as the real one. “I bet you said the same things to Nate. To Giselle.”

“Never,” HG felt the comments like a body blow.

“Then prove it,” Myka continued to move closer. “Join me.  Join us. We already have a place,” she used the tip of the ax to point towards a black and white photo on the column behind HG.

Before HG could reply a blue light slammed into Myka. The Agent struggled for a moment before collapsing to the floor.

HG looked up to see a groggy Claudia, mini Tesla in hand.

 

“So you really think The Overlook is possessed?” Steve asked, handing Claudia a drink.

“Definitely,” she replied. She looked over at Myka and HG. The taller woman had pulled the other into her chest, holding her close as they sat on the couch at the B&B.

“I would have to agree,” HG nodded. “We collected several objects, including the ax. But not everything we witnessed could be blamed on artifacts.”

“Elevators that deliver blood go way beyond whammied,” Claudia shuddered.

“There was no blood anywhere,” Pete pointed as he plopped down on the floor.  Pete and Steve had found the three women shivering outside in one of the storage sheds by the time they arrived.  HG had volunteered to retrieve their bags with Pete while the others warmed themselves in Steve’s snow cat.

“But you said the place sent your vibes into overdrive,” Claudia pointed out.

“And what about that woman you saw by room 237,” HG added.

“Okay,” Pete agreed. “Maybe.”

 

By the time they’d dragged her to the shed, Myka had regained her senses and nearly burst into tears at the thought of what she’d almost done.

“We’ve all been there,” Claudia pulled her into a hug.

“Or worse,” Helena added, taking Myka in her arms after Claudia, kissing her softly.

Myka shook off the images of what had happened at The Overlook, pulling her love closer as the movie began.  She’d been affected by an artifact before and would most likely be again.

But she would be haunted forever by the image in the picture she’d pointed to in the lobby. The photo from the Summer Soiree of 1923 in The Gold Room.  The crowd had gathered for a large group photo.

Front and center were two very familiar women both in tuxes smiling as they held each other close.


	137. Freeze without an answer, free from all the shame,  let me die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myka hadn’t let her back in right away. It had taken time. Coffee and conversation. Movie nights and retrievals. By the time Helena had mused on the true nature of the Warehouse they had reconciled and were fully in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had quite a debate on this one. Because it falls high on the cray scale, with a lot of references to other things that (honestly) make it a bit self indulgent. But sometimes you've got to treat yo self so here it is.
> 
> References to a few shows as well to a few other works of yours truly with characters from Somewhere in London/Hacienda Motel and The Quiet Things That No One Ever Knows having some guest appearances. 
> 
> This is not a fix it. This is not happy. 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading.

Helena had tried to tell her.  Had tried to explain in the only way she knew how. And Myka had listened but not fully understood.

Until now.

 

_“The Regents and the Caretaker,” her lover had explained late one night.  “They seem as if they are an entity unto itself. That the Warehouse has and always will stand apart and it does.” She paused._

_“To a certain extent.”_

_“And how far does that stretch,” Myka had asked._

_“We do not work in a vacuum,” was all that Helena had said._

Helena Wells had come to the modern Warehouse as a villain. She had left a hero, having sacrificed herself in an alternate timeline then traveling with the Astrolabe in this one.

And for a time she was happy, living a lie in a small Wisconsin town. But the fabric had worn thin on the tales she had spun so she returned to the Warehouse ready to fully accept the brave new world the Bronze had afforded her.

Myka hadn’t let her back in right away. It had taken time. Coffee and conversation. Movie nights and retrievals.  By the time Helena had mused on the true nature of the Warehouse they had reconciled and were fully in love.

 

Then Mrs. Fredrick had appeared with a life or death mission for Helena and only Helena because of what she’d almost been during her time at Warehouse 12.

 

_“There are connections Agent Wells has in this world that we need at this time,” was all Mrs. Fredrick would say._

 

In the past four days Myka had learned more than she ever imagined about how the Warehouse worked. About how many ‘alliances’ and ‘agreements’ and ‘contracts’ it shared with various groups around the globe.

It had a shadow connection to the US Government (which she already knew).  The FBI agents had been interesting but of little help. They hadn’t spoken to Helena in months.

The Warehouse worked with a group based in London who had tracked questionable activity for millennia. They had worked with HG during her days at 12 and on this current mission.  But they had seen her last during the summer when she had been buried in diaries and other archives.

Myka had spoken to a pair of brothers who had seen HG a couple of months ago while they worked on a case outside of Tallahassee.  Helena was healthy but sad and had bid the men goodbye at a rest stop on Interstate 10.

 

_“You know,” the man sipped his drink. “I really shouldn’t be seeing you at all.”_

_Myka didn’t reply._

_“She said you were tough,” he smiled. “Beautiful too.  HG wouldn’t settle for anything less.”_

_“We could chit chat all day Damien,” Myka sighed. “But I don’t have the time. Where is she?”_

_The assassin smirked.  “So impatient.”_

_“Her life is in danger.” Myka didn’t mince words. “When’s the last time you spoke with Helena?”_

_“Two days ago. She wanted to know if we had any contacts in Wroclaw. I gave her a couple of names.”_

_“Can I have them also?”_

_Damien took another sip of his cappuccino as he studied the woman before him._

_What love did to people he thought as he wrote done the contact info._

 

Myka double checked the map Yuri had provided. This was the place.

“Are you there?” she spoke into the hidden mic.

“Loud and clear,” Claudia replied. “Fargo’s with us too. Can’t have enough back up on this one.”

“Agreed,” she looked over at Pete and Steve as they readied their guns. 

From what Myka had discovered, Telsa’s would be a waste of time.

 

When the gunfire ended, bodies were scattered throughout the house.  Almost every room found blood seeping into the floorboards as a reminder of what had happened.

Myka’s hands shook as she freed her love from her bonds.  Bruised and beaten, Helena clung to life.

“I knew,” the Victorian rasped. “I knew you’d find me.”

“I’ll always find you,” Myka fought back tears.

She ignored the bright flash as Pete and Steve bagged the ancient Biblical artifact.

“Stay with me,” Myka whispered, clutching Helena close.

“I love you.” Helena smiled and closed her eyes.

 

 

Damien shook his head as he watched  from across the street.

“You were right,” he took a long drag from his cigarette.  “She didn’t make it.”

“In this world,” Jay sighed. “But when you mess with the timeline, it has a way of catching up with you.”

“Whatever that means,” Damien, used to the cryptic crazy talk from his employer.

“We have what we need,” Jay sighed.  “Keep an eye on the situation.”

“Will do.”

Love, what a waste he thought as he watched Agent Bering be escorted from the condemned house. 

“I hope you’re happy somewhere,” he whispered.


	138. You fear my limitless emotions; I am bored of your apocalyptic obsessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They had been married in the late summer of 2015 when it became legal in all 50 states.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The countdown to the end of the Vodka series is on so I give you some super angsty and dark ideas with a cannon spin set in a post season 5 Warehouse. Thank some leaked Bjork aka the greatest artist of the last 30 years for this because Black Lake gives me lots and lots of ideas. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think!

Later there would be time to reflect on the irony of the situation. 

Irony no that was the wrong word for where they were. Parallel or perhaps symmetry.  Because it was during a moment very much like this one that she’d realized that she was desperately in love.

And it had saved the world.

“Please,” her voice cracked as she slowly stepped closer to her wife. “Don’t do this.”

 

_They had been married in the late summer of 2015 when it became legal in all 50 states.  The courtship was a short one but they had been circling each other for years.  It had been a simple civil ceremony at the Featherhead courthouse. Pete and Claudia had been besides themselves with glee, barely able to contain their excitement during the wedding. Steve and Artie had taken a more reserved approached but were overjoyed none the less.  Even Mrs. Fredrick sent her regards and a two week all expenses paid trip to Bali as their surprise honeymoon._

“Don’t come any closer,” her wife growled, trident poised for the second blow. “We have already been through everything. There is no hope. No hope left.”

“There is always hope,” she spoke softly, motioning for Pete to stay back.

“I find that funny coming from you.”

“You taught me that. And that there is beauty in this world.”

“Not today.”

 

_They had spent several years just the two of them. Traveling the globe with their friends, their family, collecting artifacts and saving the world. Artie had retired, new Agents had joined the team and Claudia had just become Caretaker when they started their family._

_Harper had been a joy to her mother’s lives.  Bright and easy going, she was the best traits of both women combined.  They traveled less and researched more as their daughter grew into a lovely young woman._

_Her wife had been running a few minutes late due to a call with the Regents that had run over.  She’d texted Harper’s soccer coach to let him know so their daughter wouldn’t have to wait by herself._

_By the time she’d got there both were gone._

 

“You know I can’t let you strike the Trident again,” she spoke calmly but sternly.

“Can you stop me in time? I don’t think so.”

“There are other ways.” Pete’s hard voice almost broke her concentration.

“I know Claudia has a team on me, probably some former sniper hidden in the trees,” her eyes searched the area. “And the vest will only save me so much.”

“Please,” her voice cracked. “Please my love don’t do this.”

“Or what,” she laughed bitterly, “you’ll hold a gun to my head?”

 

_Coach Anderson had been found the next morning, dumped in a trash bin behind a 7-Eleven on the outskirts of Featherhead._

_No clues. No evidence. No trace of Harper._

_The Regents had called an emergency meeting and Mrs. Fredrick (now retired in Mexico had flown back to assist) had pulled in many of her favors with the government to make the Harper Bering-Wells case a top priority._

_Liam had called Steve with a hunch about a series of murders of young girls meeting Harper’s description dating back to the late 80s._

_“A traveling serial killer,” Claudia frowned._

_“Artifact related?” Abigail asked._

_“Possibly,” the young Caretaker replied. “Pete, take the case in Madison. I’ll get you on a flight ASAP. Steve take Rich and check out the case in Boise. Abigail up for a trip?”_

_“Of course.”_

_“Head out with Chloe to Fargo. It’s the oldest and closest. Work your charms ladies.”_

_“On it boss,” Chloe the newest Agent fresh from the NSA mock saluted and followed the innkeeper out the door._

_“And what about us?” she’d asked._

_“Stay here. Keep researching.”_

_“My daughter is out there somewhere! I can’t sit here and wait for…”_

_“Yes you can.” Claudia’s voice brokered no argument. “And you will.”_

_Rodger Clowers had been a long haul trucker since he graduated high school in 1985. He lived in a small one bedroom in Minneapolis that was neat and organized with pictures of his sister and her kids on the wall.  He had grown up in Crosby, a small town about 4 hours north of the city with his parents who had both passed away about six months after he finished school._

_It wasn’t until he traveled through Tallahassee in 1988 that death followed in his wake. They’d learned that he had a cousin who was a member of the Sigma Pi fraternity and that somehow Rodger came in contact with a Ted Bundy artifact._

_And Clowers was interested in those far younger than himself._

 

Helena continued to walk slowly towards Myka, who clutched the Minoan Trident closely.  She shoved the guilt down, not thinking of the long nights she’d spent tinkering away from her wife. Long nights lost in her sorrow and trying not to think about artifacts and her working time machine.

(And what Paracelsus had been able to accomplish during his short tenure in the 21st century.)

So swallowed by her own grief that she had not seen the dark turn Myka had taken until Chloe had stumbled upon the head Agent trying to travel back in time.

 

The Regents had cleared Agent Bering of any wrong doing in the accidental death of an Agent Chloe Williams.  Helena had finally snapped out of her guilt and fear and devastation over another daughter lost to see Myka for the first time in years.

And she was scared at what she witnessed.

Because she did know Myka better than anyone else.

And the darkness that Myka now wore as a cape was all too familiar.

 

“We had some good years,” Myka sighed, leaning on the trident. “Didn’t we Helena. Once you got it all figured out.”

“We did,” she smiled. “Any we have many more ahead of us.”

“Are you so sure about that?”

“Of course,” Helena took another step forward. She was within striking distance of the trident.

“I love you,” Myka looked up, meeting Helena’s eyes for the first time. “I’ll always love you.”

“And I you.”

Myka smiled and leaned on the trident, sending its spears into the ground for a second time.

The Earth shook and Helena was tossed to the ground.

As she recovered a shot echoed through the quiet park.

“No!” Helena screamed as she watched Myka collapse.

Rage coursed through her veins as she slowly stood.  It would only take one more strike to complete what she had started so many years ago.

Another shot rang out in the wilderness.


	139. That Mob AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a matter of seconds Myka found herself struggling to hold onto Leena as she battled with the last member of MacPherson’s mob.  
> A woman.  
> (A beautiful English woman, but that was beside the point.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've got a bit of a drabble ongoing series happening on Tumblr right now set in a mob universe. I've got a few short scenes posted and I've decided to add them over here. As I add them on Tumblr, they'll be posted here as well under this one chapter.
> 
> Thanks for reading this total work in progress! Let me know what you think.
> 
> Update: And it's done! Thanks for reading!

**Close your eyes and imagine, feel the magic**

 

The wall exploded behind her. A miss that was far too near for her liking.

They never expected a woman.  Because in this overly testosterone world of machismo and bluster that was the mob, the boys thought they knew the best ways to cause pain. To exact revenge.

But she had schooled them on what exactly a woman could do.

 

She reloaded quickly. By her count her opponent was empty as well. It was now down to speed and skill and if there was one thing Myka knew, she had yet to face a foe who could best her in either category.

 

Leena was locked and loaded, ready to complete the job she’d already been paid handsomely to take care off. The rival boss and his top henchmen had been handled. All that remained was one pesky bodyguard who refused to flee or die.

 

Myka peeked around the corner, trying to find her opponent behind the upturned tables and chairs.  A flash of dark hair gave away the location.

She sprang up from her hiding spot, Leena in one hand, Rebecca in the other, both guns focused on where she’d seen that flash of black. Where she’d spotted the remaining foe.  

 

“I’ve got you,” Myka boasted, smirk on her face. “I know you’re on empty. Come out so I can kill you like a man.”

“I’m afraid,” a distinctly British and female voice replied. “That you are confused on our circumstances.”

 

In a matter of seconds Myka found herself struggling to hold onto Leena as she battled with the last member of MacPherson’s mob.

A woman.

(A beautiful English woman, but that was beside the point.)

 

**Oh just another lonely night. Are you willing to sacrifice your life?**

                                                                                        

HG prowled the back room, keeping her eyes on the city’s mafia elite.  Her boss, Nielson, was a sharp cookie and had played his cards well. The old gangster knew that one of his rivals was going to make a move and they’d played their hand a few weeks ago.

The losses were expected but not acceptable. Especially since Nielson had planned on her being one of them.

 

_“I knew you’d make it,” He greeted when she’d called in.  “That’s why I put you on that detail.”_

_“Or you were trying to get me killed.”_

_“HG please,” the old man chuckled. “No one has more lives than you.”_

 

She’d been recovering while another group had replied with a vicious attack of their own. HG wondered if the stunning brunette had survived.  It was rare for a woman to be in this business in any capacity, but as muscle? She thought she was the only one.

 

“Where is Kosan?” Fredrick asked annoyed. She had ruled the eastside for years and was Nielson’s closest ally.  “I have other things that require my attention.”

“Agreed,” MacPherson chimed in.  He and Nielson had once been partners and held an uneasy truce since the incident at Club Egypt.

“He’ll be here,” Nielson grumbled.  “Or we’ll wipe him out.”

 

Music poured through the opened door as the final of the mob bosses arrived. Kosan had come up through the streets and taken over the west side of the city.  He was the newest of the dons but well respected.

Until his unprovoked attack a few weeks ago.

 

“Apologies for my tardiness,” he began, taking a seat as his crew files into the room.  HG winked at her counterpart, one Myka Bering, who scowled.

“I bring news,” he reached back and one of his men handed him a folder. “But first I must apologize.  Mr. Nielson I was in the wrong for my incursion two weeks ago. I was misinformed that you were behind the destruction of one of my business interests six weeks ago.”

“What are you talking about Kosan?”

“I believe,” he opened the folder, handing out its contents. “That we have an outside force trying to disrupt the balance we have in the city.”

HG moved closer to the table to examine the reports. She couldn’t help but notice Myka do the same.

 

**Comes to the ladies…cause things ain’t changed since the early eighties**

“It is always this fun?” Pete asked sarcastically as he watched Myka and HG argue.

“Your partner has struck a nerve,” Will frowned.

“So has yours Wolly,” Pete shook his head.  Why Kosan had picked them for this hands across the mob adventure he’d never know.

“Have they done it yet?”  Liam, Mrs. Fredrick’s contribution to this mess asked.

“Still arguing,” Pete paused, realizing what the other man had said.

“Wait a minute bub,” Pete pointed a finger, “did you just?”

“He didn’t,” Steve, Liam’s partner stepped in, “did you?”

“Whatever,” Liam rolled his eyes and moved off to talk to Marcus and Josh. MacPherson’s men had kept to themselves during most of this operation. And that wasn’t good for building trust.

Neither was this escalating argument between HG and Myka.

“Someone needs to do something,” Steve said. “We can’t sit here forever.”

Will’s phone buzzed.

“Finally,”   he quickly opened the screen to read Fargo’s text.

“HG,” he called as he read. “Fargo has our info. And an address.”

 

HG stopped mid sentence. “As I said Bering,” she growled out. “Nielson’s people always come through.” She turned and joined the rest of the group. 

Myka glowered for a moment and then followed. Wells was infuriating. With her unorthodox style and instinctual nature…and her incredible looks and skills with a gun.  She had been at odds with Myka from the beginning of this mission.

 

The warehouse was dark and appeared to be empty. They’d split up, each partnering with someone from another family to make sure things stayed on the up and up.

Somehow Myka found herself with HG.

Ten minutes later all hell broke loose when gunfire rained down from the rafters.

HG tackled Myka, pinning her to the ground and saving her life.

“I’ve imagined this scenario a bit differently,” HG whispered with a smirk before pushing herself off of Myka.

Dazed, Myka pulled herself up and followed the other enforcer further into the warehouse.

“Imagined?” she said to herself. Then grinned.

 

**Look at that sky, life’s begun. Nights are warm and the days are young**

Between Nielson’s Fargo and Kosan’s Claudia the seemingly lifeless laptop they’d found at the Warehouse had proved useful.

They were able to find the manufacturer of the custom job who (with some persuasion) gave them the name of the buyer.

The buyer was a third party who worked for a lot of people but Kosan had friends in the industry and they’d gotten the name of someone who could actually give them something useful.

“I know you’d rather take Pete on this one Myka,” Kosan steepled his fingers, “but this club is quite private and only caters to a certain clientele.”

Before he said the name, Myka knew.

 

Pete gave a low whistle as he watched HG strut down the street.  All black, skin tight with a dash of white from a tee that was revealed thanks to one too many open buttons.

“She is hot,” Pete observed.

“And trouble.”

“Is that what you’re wearing?” HG raised an eyebrow as she greeted the pair.

“Yeah,” Myka scratched the back of her neck. “Kosan said…”

“Your boss is a fool. This won’t work.”

 

“Ladies,” the doorman, Wolcott undercover, greeted as they stepped out of the car driven by Pete.

“Are you sure?”

“Quite darling,” HG assessed her ‘date’ for the evening.  Those who were invited to the club had a certain standard to maintain and with Myka’s dashing retro suit she now fit in.

_“Mars has nothing on you darling,” HG smiled. “Theo is the best there is in town.”_

 

“You’ve been here before,” Myka asked as they rode the private elevator up to the top floor.

“Once or twice,” HG replied, running a hand through her long black hair. “The owner and I are old acquaintances.”

The doors opened directly into the mostly full club.

Myka suppressed a gasp as HG took her hand and leaned in to kiss her neck.

“Remember we are a couple,” she whispered, sensing Myka’s surprise at the gesture. “And the things that are allowed here far exceed what you might have experienced in the past.”

 

The bartender took one look at HG and smirked.  “I almost thought this was a more of a pleasure trip, but I see that it’s all business.”

“It’s good to see you too Olivia,” HG replied, easing into her seat. “This is Myka.”

“Bering right, one of Kosan’s?”

After a nod from HG, she nodded.

“I used to be a cop,” Olivia explained as she made their drinks, “I still have a few friends.”

“We’re looking for a woman,” Myka began.

“Take your pick,” Olivia motioned to the room behind her, backed with the crème de la crème of the city’s elite and most eligible ladies.

Myka frowned as HG and Olivia chuckled.

“Darling,” HG slide closer.  “I spoke with Olivia earlier today. If we don’t spot our quarry she will. Let us enjoy this moment together while we can.”

With a wink Olivia moved off to take care of other patrons.

 

“Shall we dance,” HG breathed into Myka’s ear. They had finished their drinks and after 45 minutes their suspect had yet to appear.

“Okay,” Myka found herself agreeing.  She was not a dancer and the one drink was not enough to get her anywhere near tipsy.

But, she acknowledged as HG took her hand and lead her onto the crowded dance floor, Nielson’s top enforcer was.

They swayed together to the heavy beats and dark lights shrunk Myka’s world down to the woman before her.

The song slowed and Myka pulled the shorter woman closer.

“I’m finding it quite difficult to concentrate,” HG whispered into Myka’s ear.  “You are very distracting.”

“I could say the same,” Myka replied with a smirk.

HG pulled back slightly, meeting Myka’s eyes before stretching up to kiss her gently.

 

 

 

**Get up like I never fucking got up before. And I get it like I never fucking got it before.**

“Did you get it?” Pete asked from the driver’s seat.

“Right here,” HG leaned forward and handed Pete the folded up napkin. “The next piece in the puzzle.”

Myka smirked, amazed that the other woman was able to speak so clearly with her hand high between her thighs.

“Sweet,” Pete’s eyes looked to his partner in the back seat. “Home base Mykes?”

“Actually,” Myka’s eyes flicked up from the slip of skin between HG’s shirt and pants revealed when the other enforcer had leaned forward. “I’m going to call it a night.  Just drop me off at my place.”

The door wasn’t even closed before they were on each other.  HG gaining a slight advantage with a swipe of her tongue down Myka’s long neck.

“I need,” Myka gasped as she felt the other woman reaching for the button on her jeans.  “I need to lock the door. Set up the security system.”

“30 seconds,” HG growled, stepping back.

Myka quickly locked the door and set up the alarm system in record time. She wasn’t a big name but she (and Kosan) had plenty of enemies. An extra moment or two could save your life if there was an intruder.

 

 

“Times up,” HG pressed into Myka’s back, her hand returning to the top of Myka’s pants.  Her other hand reached up and deftly unbuttoned Myka’s shirt enough for her to reach a breast.

Myka sighed and leaned back into the shorter woman. “God,” she pushed up slightly from the wall, enough to use one of her hands to guide HG just where she wanted her.

“I knew it,” HG whispered as Myka’s hips began to rock.  “You’ve wanted me since that first gunfight.”

“We’ll see,” Myka groaned. HG was talented with more than just a gun. “When I get my shot.”

“Who says you will?”

Myka reached up with her other hand and pulled HG’s head down, crashing their lips together.

“That’s how I know,” she gasped as HG’s hand sank deeper into her pants.

 

Myka groaned and shifted, causing the body on top of her to stir. They had never made it to the bedroom. They had never made it out of all their clothes.

“What time is it?” HG asked as she shifted up to kiss Myka’s neck.

“Just past 5:30,” Myka glanced back from the timer on her DVD player to the topless woman sprawled across her.

“I should go,” HG leaned up. Myka brushed the dark hair out of her face.

“Yeah,” Myka agreed and pulled HG down for another kiss.

 

Forty five minutes later Myka gave HG a final kiss and bid the other woman goodnight.  She knew that falling for another enforcer was a risk. 

Falling for one who worked for a rival mob was beyond dangerous.

But that was a dilemma to ponder for later. There was still time to get a couple of hours of decent sleep before she called Pete to see if they’d found anything last night.

Myka pulled her phone out from under the coffee table.  The battery was dead.

“Great,” she grumbled.

Finding her charger next to her alarm clock in the bedroom she plugged the device in.

37 missed calls.

“Fuck,” she cursed, pressing play on the first voicemail.

“Myka,” Pete’s frantic voice shouted from the speaker. “Fuck Myka pick up. Where are you,” he wheezed. “We’ve been hit. Kosan’s dead. Most of the crew gone. God, we’re so fucked.”

Myka’s hand turned white, rage filling her soul.

“We’ve been had Mykes. The whole thing was a set up.”

 

 

**When it all boils down there’s nothing but bones left.**

“What do we know?” Myka looked at the handful of people before her.

“Not much,” Claudia looked over the top of her laptop. “Major security break around 2:30am. They didn’t get everything,” the hacker swallowed, “but they got a lot.”

“Fifteen minutes later they torched the main warehouse and Horus.” Pete crossed his arms. “They then hit the Regents at their homes, including Kosan.”

“Fuck,” Todd, Pete’s protégé swore under his breath.

“So it’s just us,” Pete’s eyes were hard.

“Any word from the other families?”

“Everyone is quiet,” Claudia leaned back. “Which his surprising given how big a hit this was. There’s always some chatter or some fool claiming credit. “

Myka’s phone broke the silence, HG’s number flashing on the screen.

She pressed ignore.

Myka paced for a moment. “Claude you said they hacked our data, right?”

“Yeah.”

“What did they take?”

“Um,” the red head’s fingers flew across the keyboard. “Info on our dummy transportation companies, contacts in customs, some from overseas.”

“They need to move something,” Myka nodded. “Something big.”

“Or a lot of somethings,” Pete agreed. “Who has the skills to hack in?”

“Me,” Claudia leaned back. “Tyler who works for MacPherson maybe, definitely Artie’s Fargo.  A couple others in the city, but they’re more interested in crashing Xbox Live and crap like that.”

Myka’s phone came to life again with another call from HG.

“Could any of them set up this whole distraction with an unknown player?”

“That I doubt. Those boys are great on the internet but not so much with the IRL.”

“IRL?”

“In real life,” Pete whispered.

“Now MacPherson or Nielson, they certainly could.”  Pete looked at Myka.

“There territory is on the other side of the river though,” Todd chimed in. “Why would they come to this part of town?”

“Access,” Myka frowned as her phone rang again with another call from HG.

“Maybe you should answer,” Pete shrugged.  “She might have news.”

“Or she might have been behind it,” Myka let another message go to voicemail.  “HG knew that club, the club’s owner and the ex-girlfriend of the woman we needed.  That’s a lot of coincidences in a short amount of time.”

“If so, then you definitely need to answer that Mykes,” Pete nodded that the now silent phone. “We can use her to get to the source.”

“And for some payback,” Claudia mumbled, setting up a trace for the next time HG called.

“Guys!” Todd looked up from his phone. “We need to pull up the local news.”

“What’s up Toddster?”

“My buddy just sent me a text, we weren’t the only ones hit.”

Claudia pulled up the live feed from the local 11pm news.

“Firefighters remain at the four alarm blaze at Nielson Musical Supply Company,” the anchor spoke over the image of a large building in flames. “Many of the company’s employees were inside at the late hour for their quarterly business meeting. No word yet on how many were injured in the blaze.”

Myka’s phone sprang to life again. This time she answered.

“Bloody hell,” HG greeted. “Tell me you are safe.”

“I am,” Myka replied, pushing down the warm feeling at the concern in the other woman’s voice.

“We need to meet as soon as possible,” HG continued. “I’ve spoken with Steve. Fredrick was hit as well. She is currently undergoing surgery at St. Clair.”

“My God,” Myka rasped.

“Artie has a safe house just outside of town.  I’ll text you the address.  Gather your people and meet me there as soon as possible.  We need to plan our attack.”

“Against who?”

“MacPherson.”

 

 

**I shoot the lights out, till it’s bright out, oh just another lonely night… Are you willing to sacrifice your life?**

 

“They’re good,” Claudia chimed in from the back seat of the SUV.  “This place is in the middle of nowhere and totally off the grid.”

“I heard that Artie started with the Russian Mob,” Todd looked out the window.  “They’re supposed to be the best.”

“Either them or the Yakuza,” Pete mumbled, casting a glance at Myka in the driver’s seat.

Myka clenched her jaw and parked the vehicle.

 

“Stay alert,” she cast a glance back at what remained of Kosan’s crew.

“That’s quite far enough Bering,” Wolcott’s voice came out of the darkness.  “Hands where we can see them.”

“Shit,” Myka grumbled.

The safe house’s floodlights kicked on  illuminating Will and Steve  both with guns raised.

“Search the car,” Will called to Liam who appeared next to Todd.

“Hi guys, just be a second.”

He went to the SUV and pointed a bizarre looking box and the vehicle.

“It’s clear.”

Next he scanned the new arrivals. “They’re good. Can I keep this when we’re done?”

“Talk to Helena,” Will lowered gun. “But I doubt it. HG’s rather partial to her inventions.”

“Smart and hot,” Pete joked as they headed inside. “You sure do know how to pick the Mykes.”

 

Myka had to admit she was impressed. The safe house was set up to appear as a luxurious cabin in the woods. State of the art equipment (tastefully displayed) was everywhere.   A peek around a corner revealed a full on tech center which Claudia quickly entered barely acknowledging Fargo at this work station.

“Drinks anyone?” Will asked, holding up a bottle of Scotch.

“Yes please,” Todd replied and Myka nodded.

“Pete?”

“Got any cream soda?”

“In the kitchen, through there,” Will pointed and Pete bounded off with a grin.

“Myka,” HG appeared at the top of the stairs. “Could I see you for a moment?”

 

Before she could speak, Myka was pressed against the closed door for the master bedroom with a passionate kiss.

“Are you well?” HG asked breathlessly as they parted.

“I’m not hurt,” Myka said, desperately trying to shake the haze the other woman had put her in. “But I’m far from well.”

 HG began to kiss down Myka’s neck.  “When Steve called to say that Kosan was dead I was beside myself with worry.”

“HG,” Myka sighed. Her body was on fire and all she wanted to do was toss the other woman on the king size bed behind them. “Helena, we need to get to the bottom of this.”

The look the other enforcer nearly derailed her thoughts.

“I know,” Myka smiled and gave her a long chaste kiss. “But we’ve got work to do. How do you know it’s MacPherson behind all of this?”

“Artie found an alias-Reynolds- that was his cover when they were first starting out in the business.  The rest Fargo was able to trace. But we were hit before Artie could find out what his plan was.”

“And where’s Artie now?”

“Sitting at Mrs. Fredrick’s bedside at St. Clair,” Helena ran her fingers down Myka’s sides before stepping back. “Turns out they have been friends since elementary school.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“We have to wait,” HG ran a hand through her hair. “Hopefully the combined forces of your Claudia and my Fargo can dig up something. Steve and Liam have a source that is currently in the streets also looking for info. As soon as we have something concrete we can move in.”

“And why should I trust you? How do I know you’re not working with MacPherson?”

“You don’t,” Helena admitted. “But I could say the same thing of you Bering. So we’re just going to have to trust each other in the meantime.”

 

**So you’ve come a long way, but you’ll never have me. Never have things for a normal life**

 

Steve and Liam’s guy had let to a name which gave Fargo a phone number which led to Claudia finding a bit of a paper trail that had let to Myka and HG standing in front of a beat up door near the river.

“With Pete and Liam at the front, Steve and Will at the back and Todd on the fire escape we’ve got him,” Myka said as she lifted her gun. “Snag and bag and back to the safe house for questioning.”

HG bit her tongue as she picked the lock. Such overconfidence usually led to failure.

The lock clicked and HG stood, pulling out Christina and taking off the safety.

“Shall we darling?” she quirked an eyebrow.

Myka steadied Leena and Rebecca as she kicked the door in.

 

“Clear,” Myka said as she swept the front room.

“Clear,” HG came from the kitchen area.

“Clear,” Myka checked the bathroom and a hall closet.

The women stood in front of a partially closed bedroom door.

“Righty-ho then,” HG steadied her weapon and pushed open the door.

 

“So what do you think?” Will asked Steve as the kept an eye on the apartment building.

“I think that they are totally into each other,” Steve looked at his watch, thinking they should have heard from either Myka or HG by now.

“But…”

“Well we’re all from different tribes,” Steve scanned the area. “And it’s one thing to work together, it’s another to fall in love.”

“You think it’s love?” Will’s eyebrows shot up.

Muffled gunshots cut off Steve’s reply.

 

“Seriously, you ask that now?” Liam huffed as he and Pete raced up the stairs.  Pete knew the sound of Rebecca like the back of his sonic hand.

“When else should I ask,” Pete replied.  “Do you want in?”

“Of course,” Liam slowed his pace as they reached the 12th floor. “A blind man could see how into their heading into U Haul town.”

“There,” Pete motioned with his gun. The open door at the end of the hall had to be where his partner and HG had gone in.

 

“He’s headed your way,” Todd shouted into his mic as he chased the slim figure in the hoodie down the fire escape. He had appeared just above their prey on the fire escape as they had tried to flee. The only way to go was down towards  Steve and Will guarding the back.

“On it,” Steve’s voice echoed in his ear.

Todd dodged another spray of bullets. “He should be almost out,” he added, hoping that he hadn’t been hit.  Gunfire had erupted suddenly as he waited just outside the bedroom window.  He wondered if HG or Myka had been hit (hopefully not) and thanked his lucky stars that he’d been able to help corral the shooter without being shot himself.

 

“Gotcha,” Will slammed the figure down.  

“Stop resisting,” he added as they squirmed against him. Steve pressed the barrel of his gun to their head and they stopped  moving.

“You have a chance to make it out of this alive,” Steve growled out. “Stop fighting.”

“Do  I?” a female voice asked. “After what I’ve done?”

 

“Oh God,” Pete gasped as he entered the bedroom, Liam hot on his heels.

“Fuck,” Liam growled, reaching for his phone.  He hated to call a hospital but they didn’t have a choice.

“She jumped in front of me,” Myka sobbed as she held HG’s unmoving form in her lap.  “She took a bullet for me.”

**With your claws scraping off the shadow, the shadow that looms o’er my heart**

 

The door slammed open, causing everyone in the room to jump. Myka, still covered in HG’s blood, focused on the girl tied to the chair.

“What do we know?” the enforcer growled out.

“Mykes,” Pete stepped forward, “are you sure you should…”

“WHAT do we know?” cold green eyes met his.

“She’s good,” Fargo’s voice broke the tension. “Lots of aliases, history as a hustler, in and out of jail, most recently upstate at Litchfield until about four months ago.”

“Then our little Lamb,” Claudia picked up where Fargo left off, “came to the big city where she began to work as a clerk for Reynolds’s Auto Parts.”

“Then what?” Myka looks at the pair of hackers.

“We’ve been trying to fill in those blanks,” Lima replied. “But she’s not saying much.”

 

_Myka felt the weight of HG’s body against her as she was shoved to the ground. Then as she pulled the other woman towards her in an attempt to stop the bleeding.  Next to her as she rode along in the ambulance to St. Clair, barely clinging on to life.  She felt the blood dry and cake on her hands as the doctors wheeled the other woman deep into the emergency room._

“I suggest,” Myka stepped forward and looked into the dark eyes of the woman who shot HG. “That you begin to tell us everything.  I have no problem with your pain. If fact,” she smiled darkly, “I’m looking forward to it.”

Pete and Claudia exchanged a look. Neither had ever seen Myka this wound up before when talking to an informant. Kosan had others that, if needed, could make the most uncooperative talk.

“Mykes,” Pete said again, reaching for her arm.

 

“She’s pissed.” The girl tied to the chair spoke for the first time with a light Russian accent. “In a rage, I’d gather.  You can’t reach her GI Joe.”

“She speaks,” Liam clapped his hands together.

“Not to you Nancy boy,” she smirked. “Only to her.”

“Why only to me?” Myka asked.

“Because I took something from that wasn’t my job to take.” She sighed. “Is your girl going to make it?”

“It’s 50/50 at best.” Myka loomed over the other woman. “So talk. Because if the wrong 50 hits I don’t care whose job it was to fuck with us.  I’m going to take it all out on you.”

 

 

Will sat next to HG’s hospital bed. His partner of over 10 years was hooked up to more machines than he thought possible. But she had come through the surgery and would be waking up soon. Luckily the shooter had been spraying the room to cover her escape and not going for a kill.

That and Myka’s medical skills had allowed the EMTs to get there in time and to get her to St. Clair.

 

“How is she?” Nielson’s voice pulled Wolcott from his musings.

“You know HG. Too stubborn to know when to quit.”

“Or to crazy,” Nielson patted the younger man’s shoulder. “I’m told she leapt in front of Kosan’s enforcer.”

“She did,” Will nodded. “If I didn’t know better I’d say she’s falling for that Bering woman.”

“I am,” HG’s voice rasped out, drawing both men’s attention and a flurry of activity.

“Thank you Wolly,” HG drank down the offered water eagerly. “How long?”

“Just over 24 hours,” Nielson took his protégée’s hand.  “You were in surgery for six of those, asleep the rest.”

“Have you heard anything?”

“Bering took the woman who shot you to the safe house for questioning.” Wolly stood and refilled HG’s cup.

“Can you,” HG swallowed. “Can you call Myka and let her know?”

“Of course,” Will handed the cup to Nielson and left the room.

“Arthur,” HG sighed. “This has gone on for far too long. We need to tell them before things get really out of hand.”

“You being shot isn’t enough?”

“You know James won’t stop there.”

 

**And I didn’t want to know that your cool seductive serenade was a tool of your trade**

Myka watched as HG slept as she pondered all that the informant had told them at the safe house.  She didn’t want to dwell on what it had taken to get the other woman to break.  Despite her trade she wasn’t that type of person.

Looking at the slumbering woman in the hospital bed Myka knew she now could be.

And she was fine with that.

 

“You’re here,” HG’s sleepy voice broke through Myka’s trouble thoughts.

“Hey,” Myka smiled and squeezed the slender hand in hers. “Are you okay?”

“I’ve been worse,” HG replied with a sign. “How are you? Are the others well?”

“Everyone’s fine. You’re the only one who managed to get shot.”

“I’d do it again you know,” she tugged Myka’s hand, pulling the other woman closer and into a deep kiss.

“Thank you,” Myka whispered as she pulled back. “You saved my life.”

“Anytime darling,” HG smiled and leaned in for another kiss.

“And how goes the interrogation,” HG asked as Myka sat back down on the uncomfortable hospital chair. “Wolly spoke with Pete earlier and said you’d made progress?”

“We have,” Myka frowned. “Our catch worked as a ‘file clerk’ for one o MacPherson’s fronts. Turns out she was recruited out of Litchfield because her uncle has ties to the mob in Moscow.”

“James is going global with his enterprises,” HG thought or a moment. “Did she know what  MacPherson was interested in?”

“Natasha didn’t know exactly, but her uncle is one of the major players in illegal antiquities.”

“Antiquities?”

“Surprising given his rep for drugs and guns,” Myka ran a hand through her hair. 

“Myka,” HG looked up at a woman who had quickly become one of the most important persons in her life. “I need to tell you something.”

“What?”

“Before I give you this information,” HG clutched the edge of the edge of her blanket tightly, “I need you to know that I have come to care about you a great deal.  More than I thought possible.”

“Okay,” Myka felt her stomach turn.

“And when this is over I desperately want to take you away from all of this so that I might show you the depths of my affection.”  She swallowed. “MacPherson contacted Arthur and myself about a year ago wanting our assistance verifying a few items he’d purchased from overseas.”

“Wait, what?”

“Nielson and I share an eye for, well for lack of a better word, artifacts that are of some value. We first met when I was in school many years ago.”

“So you’re telling me,” Myka stood and began to pace, “that you helped MacPherson?”

“Yes,” HG frowned. “Arthur owed him  favors from when they had been partners. For a few months I worked with James and his men moving product and finding the best buyers. I had no idea that he would use the funds to attempt a takeover of the city.”

“Attempt?” Myka growled. “From where I’m standing he’s just about succeeded.”

“Myka please,” HG began.

“Please what?” Myka shouted.  “You helped MacPherson! For all I know you’re still helping him by working your way into what’s left of Fredrick’s crew. Of my crew.”

“MacPherson spared no one,” HG spat, “we all have lost.”

“But how much,” Myka felt flush with anger and embarrassment. “You should have told us from the start about Nielson and MacPherson working together.”

“For what purpose,” HG replied hotly. “So that you could destroy us both?”

“Exactly.”

 

**Cause everywhere I’ve been walking I’ve been getting in trouble deep**

“What do we know?” HG asked as Wolly wheeled her through the hospital doors.  She had checked herself out days early much to the consternation of Will and Artie.

“That you should still be in bed,” her partner grumbled.

“Wolly please,” HG grimaced as she stood next the car, ignoring Artie’s scowl as she sat down gingerly in the front seat.

“Fine,” he huffed. “Despite what occurred between you and Bering, both Steve and Pete have kept me in the loop.  Since Fargo is out, it’s taking some time for Claudia to hack through the firewalls of MacPherson’s dummy companies to generate more leads.”

“But,” HG glanced back at Wolly.

“Before the informant was dumped she did provide solid information on one of MacPherson’s holding areas. An old jewelry shop on 13th Street.”

“I know the one,” Artie jumped in. “James bought an engagement ring at that store.”

“He’s married?”  HG’s eyebrows shot up.

“Not anymore.  She was killed by a hit years ago. It’s what caused James to strike out on his own.”

“What was he like?” HG asked. They needed to figure out something and fast. Her gut was screaming not only in pain but with worry.

Myka and her friends were definitely walking into a trap.

“It was like,” Artie paused, “it was like he bypassed grief and went straight into obsession. About finding those responsible, about revenge, about what he could have done to change things.” Artie snorted, “He even talked about finding a way to reverse what had happened. Like go back in time to fix things.  Pure insanity.”

“Indeed,” HG replied thinking.

“But what if,” she spoke slowly as they sped through the city. “What if he thought there was a way to change things?”

“Impossible,” Artie scoffed.

“I agree. But what if he happened upon something that he thought might work.  Think about it. He suddenly approached you about researching antiquities when he had never shown an interest before.  And not just run of the mill items either. Old artifacts, hard to find objects, curiosities with a unique past.”

“But his wife died years ago,” Artie protested. “Why now?”

“If it was the person I loved more than anyone else,” Wolly offered, “and there was a chance I could save them, I’d take it.”

HG fell silent as her thoughts turned to dark hair and deep green eyes.

 

Pete glanced over at the body covered on the floor by a sheet.  “Look,” he tried to keep his voice steady. “I know you want to go in guns blazing but I really think we need to wait. Make sure we’ve got all the angles covered.”

“I’m with Pete,” Liam nodded. “How do we know what Natasha told us is even true? She was pretty desperate at the end.”

“Plus we need some backup,” Steve looked around the room, “because we’re a little low on numbers right now.  We need to bring Nielson back in.”

“No,” Myka scowled. “We can’t trust them.”

“Come on Mykes,” Pete pleaded. “You know that Nielson always pays his debts but wouldn’t go far beyond that. His beef with MacPherson is pretty big. Plus I think HG is really into you so why would she set you up like that?”

“Have you all suddenly forgotten what we do for a living?” Myka growled. “We don’t make friends. We don’t have families. We don’t fall in love,” she swallowed. “We kill people.  We protect our boss by any means necessary.”

“We know,” Pete rolled his eyes. “But I’m getting a really bad feeling about this. We need to wait for HG.”

“By the time she gets out of the hospital our window will have passed.” Myka shot back.

“Not necessarily,” HG replied from the doorway.

 

**When it breaks we’ll know it’s time, we’ll know it’s up to us to fix it**

 

“That’s,” Pete rubbed his chin, “that’s freaking brilliant.” He looked over at a paler than normal HG. 

“If it works,” HG looked from Pete to Myka who quickly averted her eyes. 

“And we can trust your friends?” Steve asked.

“Without a doubt,” HG nodded, “these are people who I grew up with in the business. They will come through.”

“But it will be a few days before we can put the plan in motion,” Artie took over. He could see the strain on HG. “So let’s get some rest.”

 

 

“Let me help,” Myka’s soft voice froze HG in her movements.  It was clear that the simple task of taking off her undershirt would be too difficult given her condition.

“Thank you,” HG replied and allowed Myka to lift the white tee over her head.

Myka swallowed as she starred at the large bandage across the other woman’s abdomen.

“I’ve had worse,” Helena sighed and sat down on the bed. “I don’t suppose you could…”

“Of course,” Myka knelt down to remove boots.

“I’m sorry,” Helena’s voice caused Myka to stop her movements. “I should have told you sooner about Artie’s connection to MacPherson. They both have been in this business so long, I assumed that everyone understood about their relationship.”

“They worked together,” Myka continued removing a boot. “We all knew that they had a past.”

“Just not recently,” Helena continued, “I should have put things together much sooner,” she paused again, “but I found myself distracted by a curly haired beauty that was good with a gun.”

Myka stayed focused. “Are you good with the rest?”

“Yes. I have a bag next to the bathroom door. Could you grab it?”

“Okay.”

 

Myka turned and blushed at Helena who had removed her bra. The enforcer’s mind pulled back to the one evening they’d spent together.

Helena hid her smirk at Myka’s reaction. As much as she wanted the other woman she was in no shape to act on her desires.

“Thank you love,” Helena smiled as Myka handed over the bag.  “Perhaps leaving the hospital wasn’t the best choice.”

“You think?” Myka reached up and scratched the back of her neck.  “I still can’t believe you did what you did.”

“Work with MacPherson?”

“No. Save my life. And here you are again, doing the same stupid thing.”

“It’s my life to make foolish choices with,” Helena slipped on the oversized sleep shirt.  “And saving you is far from one of them.”

“You,” Myka struggled for words. “You make me think of things that should never cross my mind.”

“Really?”

“Yes. And you made me so angry back at the hospital. I’m still mad.”

“Okay.”

“But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to spend the night here with you.”

“Sleeping?”

Myka gave a small smile.

“Yeah.”

 

**Yeah, I know it gets tired, but it's better when we pretend**

“Mickey and Ash have set everything up,” HG looked up from the text.  “The product is going to be delivered tonight at Warehouse 2.”

“And you’re sure it’s a solid forgery?” Steve asked.

“Their team is the best,” HG looked affronted.  “Of course!”

“If I didn’t know it was a fake, I’d believe this data trail,” Claudia added. “It looks legit.”

“And it’s a neutral site,” Pete added, “so it adds to credibility.”

“But what about…”

“We’re good,” Myka answered Steve’s question. “I just got off the phone with them. They’ll be there as backup tonight.”

“Then I suggest we prepare,” HG looked down at her phone again. “We’ve got about 4 hours to get everything in position.”

 

HG healed fast but Myka still had to help the other woman dress and get into the bullet proof gear they all would wear.

“I still think you should sit this one out Helena,” Myka helped the other woman on with her shirt. “You still can’t even get dressed without help.”

“When the time comes I’ll be fine,” HG replied, quickly buttoning up her lucky blue shirt.  “Just try not to run in front of any bullets this time, okay?”

“Ha ha,” Myka stood back and completed getting ready.

“Listen,” Myka paused, “when this is all over…”

“How about we talk about that when that time arrives?” HG stepped in front of the slightly taller woman.  “I don’t like to discuss the future when a big job is on the line. Bad luck and all.”

“Okay,” Myka nodded and leaned down for a kiss. “But after?”

“We will definitely talk.”

 

The team was in position and well hidden before the exchange was to be made.  Pete and Myka covered the back, Steve, Liam and Todd the front and Wolly and HG hid inside the building.  Claudia and Fargo had every surveillance system in the city at their fingertips.

“And that backup,” Liam had asked as they slipped into position.

“They’re at the city limits,” she looked down at her phone. “They’ll be in the area in 20 minutes. More than enough time if we need them.”

“You okay over there Lattimer?”

“Five by Five. I’ve got a good vibe about this one Mykes.”

 

“Will you stop,” HG whispered harshly. “You are hovering like my Gran when I was sick as a child.”

“I’m sorry for my concern about your well being,” Wolly snarked back. “Given the life and death situation we now find ourselves in.”

“I am well enough to complete this mission.  This doesn’t even come close to Dubai.”

“Nothing comes close to Dubai,” Wolly rolled his eyes.  HG was the most stubborn person he had ever known.

HG took a deep breath, feeling the tug of bandages and the soreness that always came from being shot.

“Thank you.” She reached out and clasped his shoulder.

“You’re welcome.”

 

 

“Already it’s go time,” Steve nodded towards the cars heading their direction. 

“The curiosity,” Liam watched through binoculars. “Check.”

“MacPherson’s goons, check.”

“And MacPherson?” Steve asked.

“Check.”

 

**What they call love is a risk, to always get hit out of nowhere by some wave and end up on your own**

She was known as a planner, a thinker, one that relied on careful observation and logic to make decisions.  She was able to separate professional from personal and skewed towards the anti-social which had made her the near perfect enforcer.

No one ever asked where she had gathered her skills or her network since they had been without question for years.  She had been lucky to be matched with the perfect partner since his larger than life personality always provided a distraction for when she moved in for the kill.

They would talk about that night in May for years across the city in back alleys and dark bars. Of how MacPherson had taken down all of the big crime families in the city with the help of his sister’s daughter who he’d taught almost everything he knew.

But she didn’t hold the sentimentality that her uncle carried like a vice around his neck. Or the crazy belief in some magical artifact that could resurrect the dead. James had been slowly losing his mind for years so when she’d suggested the brilliant hit on all the families he’d agreed.

As her uncle lay dead on the dirty floor of the warehouse she smiled. He finally would get that reunion with his daughter.

“He’s dead,” her partner had said with a grin. “Is it over?”

“Not quite.”

 

The ‘backup’ had taken out MacPherson’s people and what was left of the other families. Nielson and Fredrick had been eliminated when their car crashed on the way home from the hospital. Claudia and Fargo had been bought off ages ago and were part of the new crime order.   Steve, Liam and Todd never made it inside and from what she’d seen in the office, Wolcott when down early.

Only one remained.

 

“We’ve got her cornered,” Marcus pointed down a narrow hallway. “She’s in the back storage room.”

“Wounded?”

“Most likely.”

“Have the boys at the ready. I’m going to talk to her.”

 

“Helena,” Myka called. “Helena, are you still alive?”

She found herself holding her breath. It would be easier if she was already dead.

“I told you we had much to talk about after this mission ended.” Helena’s voice filled the hallway. “Come down here and let’s get to it then.”

 

HG had propped herself up in the far corner of the small room.  Two large dark red splotches covered parts of the once crisp blue shirt.

“Armor piercing bullets,” she rasped. “You thought of everything.”

“When did you figure it out?”

“As we were leaving the safe house I overheard you talking with Fargo. You were far too familiar with someone you’d only met a couple of weeks ago.”

“Impressive.”

“I thought it was simply my paranoia but then when I saw Marcus as part of MacPherson’s crew, I knew. An assassin doesn’t show up to a drop. The fix was on and you are the only person smart enough to pull it off.” HG swallowed. “Is anyone else?”

“Just you.”

HG laughed dryly. “And to think if I would have let that girl shoot you I would not be the one dying on the floor.”

“You don’t have to be now,” Myka knelt down in front of Helena. “Join me Helena.”

“You murdered your friends.” Helena’s sad brown eyes met Myka’s. “How long before I’m on that list if I leave this room?”

“You’re the first person I’ve ever felt anything for Helena. It doesn’t have to be this way.”

“Oh Myka,” Helena reached up and pulled her down for a fierce kiss. “There is no other.”

 

 

“Is she?” Marcus asked when Myka approached the team outside.

“We don’t have to worry about Helena Wells,” Myka replied. “The money is already in your account. Thank you for your services today.”

 

_Years later…_

“Sorry about the mess,” Claudia moved a stack of papers and several empty cans of Red Bull off the desk. 

“Myka’s got a lot going on for a crime boss,” Skye looked around the room.

“She does so with Fargo gone I’m glad she agreed to bring you in as back up.  I know you’ve got your own gear but for Bering and Son’s Incorporated you’ve got to use ours.”

“It’s cool,” the young hacker sat down in front of lap top.

“One of the jobs you’re going to handle is the money transfers. It’s a big one, ya know. The one that keeps us off the Fed’s radar.”

“Got it.” Skye pulled up the list of accounts that she was in charge of monitoring. “Anything special I need to know?”

“Just make sure everything gets paid, especially Edward Prendick.”

“Who’s that?”

“After all these years with Myka, I’ve learned not to ask too many questions.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the last update is complete! Thanks everyone for reading and to Roadie who had kept up her one woman commentary for all 7K of this sort of writing challenge that spiraled out of control.
> 
> I've posted a link to the playlist for just this saga over on tumblr under MFAngeleeta.
> 
> I hope that everyone liked this one. It really started out as a random idea and hello stand alone story. I will admit that I knew early on that this wouldn't have a happy ending but it's not the angst bomb that will happen in the final four (oh my god, only four) chapters of Vodka. 
> 
> Thanks again for reading!


	140. They’ll come with questions, answer what you can, everybody knows the new oracle’s at hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Were you talking about me?” she asked, stepping into the room.  
> HG shifted from foot to foot for a moment before answering. “Yes.”  
> “Because you think I could be the one,” Myka rubbed the back of her neck. “Don’t you.”  
> “There is a good chance, yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's a little something to counteract the angst bombs that have been dropping as of late. Thanks Deathtodickens for the idea of fluffy dystopian androgyny. (I hope it works).
> 
> Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think!

“Are you sure we can trust him,” Myka whispered to Pete as they followed the shadowy figure through the darker parts of Union City.

“He’s the best,” Pete replied softly. “And we want out before we’re selected.  That’s no life for our kind Mykes.”

“You’re right.”

“It’s a little late to be doubt me now, don’t you think?” their guide looked over his shoulder.  “Perhaps you’re not ready for the outside.”

“We are,” Pete nodded enthusiastically. “Aren’t we?”

“Yeah,” Myka replied softly.

Suddenly the shorter figure was before Myka, dark eyes peering out from the black hoodie he was wearing.

“You have to be sure,” he said again. “Union City is a gilded cage for most, a prison for others.  I’ve seen you around,” he circled her slowly. “You could pass if you wanted to. Why not go back now and be sorted when the time comes?”

Suddenly the guide pressed into Myka, shoving her against the alley wall. “Overhead patrol,” he hissed.

Pete ducked behind a dumpster as the floater sailed overhead, casting its bright light along the rooftops and on the street below.

Myka ducked her head into a slim shoulder, breathing heavily as she tried to push the fear down again.

“I know you’re scared,” he said again, “I was too. But you’re making the right choice. You’d die if you had to stay in the City.”

“How do you know?” Myka couldn’t quite let it go.

“I know you better than anyone else,” he leaned back with a smirk.

“Are you okay,” Pete asked as they continued on.

“I’m fine,” Myka hoped her face didn’t reflect the heat she felt.

 

Union City, with its gleaming spirals of steel and perfectly manufactured society was slowly fading in the distance.  They had crossed the shallows and made their way through the Outer Circle where those who served the citizens of the city lived.   Some said that their guide HG came from Outer Circle. Others said he was the son of the head of the science guild who had been banned to due to his ‘affliction’.

HG had been helping citizens of Union City escape since the time of Myka’s grandparents.  There was no way to avoid the sorting that happened at age 26. Every citizen was subject to being ranked, evaluated and placed into the life track you would follow until your death day.  If you were sorted as deviant or lacking in any way, the best you could hope for was a life in the Outer Circle.

Those that fell into the category that Myka and Pete shared were never heard from again.

 

HG stopped and looked up at the sky.

“The sun will be coming up soon.  We need to hide. And rest.”

Myka tried not to notice the decrepit state of the buildings around them. They were on the edge of the Outer Circle where the last remnants of the old world met with the new.  Her father had worked at the Great Library and she had read many a history on the time before.

But seeing what was left of that world was another thing.

 

“Is this safe?” she asked as they moved further into the leaning building.

“I’ve gotten you this far haven’t I,” HG drawled.  “I’ve used this hideout many times.”

“Oh wow,” Pete’s face lit up when they reached their destination. “Is that pre-war?”

“It is,” HG smiled and opened the small device. “And it’s working. Take what you like.”

Grinning Pete reached into the device for a drink and a food packed.  Myka did the same.

Other than Pete’s occasional appreciative grunts, the trio ate in silence.

“So what’s it like,” Pete asked. “Sanctuary?”

“We are free,” HG leaned back against the wall. “The people of Sanctuary can live how they choose as long as they follow the three rules.”

“Rules?”

“Everyone contributes to Sanctuary in some fashion,” HG sipped her drink. “That is the first and most important rule. The second is that we are all equal and have a vote when the time comes.  And the third rule is that we a free to live how we chose, with whom we chose, as long as it does not physically hurt others.”

“That seems kind of loosey goosey,” Pete looked over at Myka.

“I think it sounds amazing,” Myka met HG’s eyes and smiled.

“It is,” HG yawned, “but it’s still a ways go. I suggest you get some sleep.”

 

Pete’s not so light snoring woke Myka a few hours later.  Her best friend and surrogate brother was sprawled out on the floor a few feet away, dead to the world.  Feeling the press of her bladder she stood slowly, stretched and hoped a bathroom would be somewhere further into the building.

“I’m telling you,” HG’s harsh voice came from behind a partially closed door down the hallway. “She’s the one.”

There was the low mummer of another voice, probably from a comspeaker.

HG sighed. “I think of all people I would be the best judge of that, don’t you.”

Myka stepped closer to the door.

“I am well aware,” HG grumbled. “We should be there by dawn tomorrow. Then you can decide for yourself.”

Before Myka could step back the door flew open and a surprised HG stood before her. 

“You shouldn’t have heard that,” HG apologized.

“You’re,” Myka stammered, “You’re a woman?”

“Yes,” HG ran a hand through her long dark hair, “though it’s far easier to keep up the appearance of my great grandfather, the first HG to liberate the citizens of Union City.”

Myka felt something shift and settle inside of her at the other woman’s appearance.

“Were you talking about me?” she asked, stepping into the room.

HG shifted from foot to foot for a moment before answering. “Yes.”

“Because you think I could be the one,” Myka rubbed the back of her neck. “Don’t you.”

“There is a good chance, yes.”

“Okay.” Myka nodded. “Okay.” She paused. “Is there a bathroom I can use?”

“Further down the hall on the left.”

 

An hour after dusk they were off again, heading west towards the setting sun. The last vestiges of the old world eventually fell away leaving only a rough and uneven scrub land.

“There used to be something here,” Myka observed as they passed through a large rusted hunk of what she guessed was a transport.

“How can you tell?” HG asked.

“It’d be easier to see in the day,” Myka looked around as she walked, peering into the dimly lit surroundings thanks to the half moon. “But a lot of these shapes were passing by don’t look natural. And this land, it’s rough.  Really rough. Like it was picked up and flipped around then put back down.”

“You can tell all that?” Pete was impressed.

“It’s a feeling. Am I right HG?”

“You are correct,” HG nodded. “Union City was built on the ashes of a much larger city. This is the center of that lost world.”

“We have to come back,” Pete vibrated next to Myka. “To explore. There has to be some super cool stuff buried here.”

“In time Pete,” HG met Myka’s eyes. “We have other matters to attend to first.”

 

The sun was beginning to lighten the sky when the climbed the final hill.

HG smiled broadly and pulled down her hoodie. She shook her hair free, allowing it to flow down her shoulders.

“We’re home.  Miss Bering, Mr. Lattimer, welcome to Sanctuary.”

“Awesome!” Pete grinned and gave Myka a high five  “Thanks for helping us HG.”

“Yeah,” Myka turned and pulled their guide into a tight hug. “Thank you HG.”

“Helena. I’d like if you’d call me Helena.”

“Okay,” Myka smiled.


	141. We’ve had our losses. We’ve had our victories.  We’ve sat across from every victim of their misery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How long have you been an Agent?” she replied, resting her head on the class of the passenger side widow.  
> “This summer makes 17 years. Still not as Artie but longer than anyone else. Except Myka.”  
> HG turned her head slowly. “I’ve been an Agent for nearly half of my life Pete.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've got a little future Warehouse AU set far after season 5 where it's time for things to change yet again.
> 
> I've had the bits of the opening section in my mind for a while now and was finally able to (hopefully) get something together that made sense. Little Mercy by DOOMTREE on endless repeat has helped quite a bit as well.
> 
> Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think!

The sun was red and hazy in the distance. Helena felt every drop of sweat fall from her brow and down her cheek.  Pete looked no better than her, flush with the heat and from frustration.

“Every year it’s a little worse,” he had said when they exited the truck in some small Texas town. (She knew the name but thinking was difficult at the moment.)

She looked at him questioningly.

“The heat.”

She’d been an agent for many years in the late 19th century. Now she had equaled her tenure in the early 21st and for not the first time she wondered if retirement wasn’t in the near future. The town lay in waste thanks to another artifact that found its way into the hand of someone it shouldn’t. This time is was a helmet from a solider that had fought in the Kosovo conflict.

Helena had given up questioning how artifacts traveled globally.   All she knew is that this one would be in the dark vault soon.

“Ready?” Pete asked as they stood at the door.  This was the last unchecked apartment in the questionable building on the outskirts of town. 

“Yes,” HG nodded, taking the safety off of her gun.  They’d decided that Tesla’s wouldn’t be enough in this case.

(Yes it was definitely time to retire.)

 

 

“How did it go?” Myka’s face filled the Farnsworth. She’d taken over for Arthur as head Agent some time ago.

“We’ve secured the artifact,” HG’s face was grim. “Pete is dealing with the authorities as we speak. Given the situation we may need to involve Claudia.”

“I’ll let her know.”

“I should go,” Helena looked away from the screen. “To check on Pete.”

“Are you okay?”

“No.”

 

The sun was red and hazy, causing the road to shimmer in the distance.  Pete had the air conditioning on the highest setting but the sweat still trickled down Helena’s brow as they sped out of the small Texas town.

 

 

Myka stood on the ridge next to the not so secret exit to the Warehouse. The same door her partner had been snuck out of years before.  The sun was low, red and hazy, fighting its natural progression across the sky.

She lifted her thick hair off the back of her neck, wishing she’d brought a towel or something to wipe the sweat gathered at her nape.  The haunted look in Helena’s eyes front and center in her mind, the fallout from an artifact gone wild barely registering.

And that was a problem.

“I’ve got things smoothed out with the Feds,” Claudia appeared next to her. The Caretaker didn’t look a day over 27.

Myka let her hair fall, glimpsing the threads of gray.

“Good,” Myka gladly accepted the cool bottle of water the Caretaker had brought.

“Are you okay?”

“No.”

 

 

Storms around Kansas City had grounded their connector back to South Dakota.  After a fitful night in a questionable Holiday Inn and a white knuckle flight the closest they managed to get to South Dakota was Minneapolis.

The sun was red and hazy, newly risen in the sky, bringing the stifling heat that was this time of year.  Pete offered to drive first in the cramped rental car as they headed west.

They spent most of trip in silence. Pete hummed along with familiar songs on the radio from time to time to break the quiet.  Helena had kept Myka updated on their travels via Farnsworth and text but had limited their conversations to work topics.

“Are you okay HG?” Pete asked as they crossed the South Dakota state line. 

“How long have you been an Agent?” she replied, resting her head on the class of the passenger side widow.

“This summer makes 17 years. Still not as Artie but longer than anyone else. Except Myka.”

HG turned her head slowly. “I’ve been an Agent for nearly half of my life Pete.”

“Well if you count your time in 12 yeah.”

“And are you ever tired? Have you ever thought you’d seen one artifact too many?”

“We’ve had some tough times,” Pete turned the radio down and the air conditioning up. “But I’m not ready say goodbye to endless wonder just yet.”

 

Myka found Helena sitting out on the back porch of the B&B.

“Hey.”

“My love,” Helena smiled and pulled Myka down next to her.

“Pete told me I could find you here.”

Helena turned and kissed her hello. “Indeed.”

They sat in silence as late afternoon turned to early evening.

“I talked to Claudia today,” Myka spoke softly.  “About who to train next as they new Artie.”

“You mean the new Myka.”

Myka rolled her eyes. “She asked if that meant I was ready to retire.”

“Are you?”

“I’d like to see a little of the word while we can. Before we’re too old or it’s too hot to do much of anything anymore.”   She pulled Helena closer. “Plus I thought 28 years might be enough for you.”

 

The sun was red and hazy as it lowered in the distance.  Deep orange and gold streaks crossed the sky and the day gave birth to night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ICYMI I've added another small update to That Mob Au in chapter 139. Please give it a gander.


	142. Don’t sweat the technique

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why must I be the one to enter this dance contest?”  
> “Because Helena you’re the only one of the three of us who can keep a beat and look good while doing it. Plus with your background in Kempo you’ll be a natural.”  
> “Right,” Helena accepted the praise with a raised eyebrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wrote this one for Appartionism who's prompt was about HG adapting to modern times. So yeah, this went way left field so I hope it's okay. 
> 
> It's also got a bit of crack!fic to it so please let me know what you think. Thanks for reading my madness.
> 
> (Fingers crossed.)

The door man crossed his arms and frowned.

“Password.”

“Sir,” Myka raised her Secret Service badge. “This is my password. Let us in.”

“I ain’t passed the bar but I know a little bit, enough that you won’t illegally search my shit.”

Steve snickered in the background. Myka shot him a death glare.

“So,” HG turned on the charm as she stepped next to her partner. “We need a password to get into this establishment?”

“Yes.”

“And where could one get,” HG moved closer to the guard, giving her most beguiling smile. “Said password.”

The large man smirked. “Nice try English vanilla cupcake but if you want to get in to this club you have to either be a member or earn the password.”

“Bollocks.”

 

 

“Can’t you just break in?” Artie asked over the Farnsworth.  The trio of Agents had returned to the hotel empty handed.

“No,” Myka glanced at Helena.

“Their security system is quite sophisticated.  Perhaps with Claudia’s help I could…”

“She is on assignment with Mrs. Fredrick. Figure it out.” Artie cut the transmission.

“Well that was delight,” HG leaned back.

“He said earn,” Steve said to himself.

“Pardon?”

“The doorman,” Steve snapped his fingers, “he said earn the password, not know. Earn. So there’s a way we can get in without breaking and entering.”

“Right,” Myka grinned, “all we need to do is figure out how to earn the password. Then we can get in and snag the artifact.”

“So this is a club,” Myka paced as Steve and HG sat next to each other on the bed. “A members only club.”

“Could we bribe someone?” Helena suggested.

“I don’t think it’s about money,” Steve pointed out. “From whom I saw getting in.”

“It’s a Studio 54 artifact,” Myka shivered, thinking of the mirror ball and Alice. “Anyone could get in when Steve Rubell was at the door.”

“Well if there’s no velvet rope, there must be something else,” Steve leaned back on his hands. “What about dancing?”

“Dancing?” Myka and HG asked simultaneously.

“So made for each other,” he chuckled.

“Well Studio 54 was known for a lot of things, but it was first and foremost it was a club. I bet we can find our answer someplace known for dancing.”

“It’s worth a shot.” Myka nodded.

 

 

Myka and Steve had never been ‘party people’.  They had lived similar lives with an occasional night spent at a bar or a club while in school. Steve and Liam had spent some time in gay clubs when they had been a couple but that had been early on. Myka and Sam had kept it close to home, only going out from time to time to a nearby sports bar to watch the Avalanche play.

Basically it had been years since they’d even stepped into that world (and that was before the move to South Dakota.)

Helena had been a night owl for many years, both before and later after Christina’s death.  She had once enjoyed acquaintances from all walks of life in London that granted her access to nearly anything under the Victorian sun. But that sun had set years ago.

None of the Agents were ready to run the gauntlet of big city nightlife that would hopefully earn them the password.

 

Night five found them at a hole in the wall with no cover and a dance floor so small and empty they wondered if they had taken a wrong turn somewhere. 

“Are we sure this is the place?” Myka asked.

“Scottie assured me that Thursday was, and I quote, off the chain. Whatever that means,” HG sipped her drink.

“What time did your guy say things get going? It’s past 11 and no one is here,” Steve looked at the nearly empty club.

“Soon.”

 

Thirty minutes later the club was so full that the Myka and Steve found themselves pushed into a corner by the bar.

“Where’s HG?” Steve shouted into Myka’s ear.

“Out there,” she pointed to the dance floor.

Steve peered into the clump of writhing bodies in front of the DJ. Sure enough, HG was in the middle of the masses, dancing away.

“Aren’t you worried?”

Myka shook her head. “She’s fine.”

“Let’s grab some air,” Steve pointed towards the open door to the patio.

With a glance back at HG, Myka followed him towards the door.

On the way out they pushed passed a familiar face.

“That was the door man from the club!” Myka looked at Steve.  “We need to get back inside.”

“Are you sure?”

“Really?”

“Okay.”

 

 

“Oh boy, I know this one,” Steve smiled as Cam’Ron blasted from the speakers. “My roommate in college had this CD.”

“Great,” Myka smirked at Steve’s shoulder shake. “Let’s find that doorman.”

The Agents split up and pushed their way through the crowd. Myka kept an eye on where she’d last seen HG and for their quarry. The club had seemed tiny when empty but packed with people Myka wondered if an artifact wasn’t in play.

The floor was enormous.

She found herself next to two girls off to the left of the DJ area when the music changed suddenly.  Like the Red Sea in The 10 Commandments the crowd parted and a circle was formed.

“Dance battle,” one of the girls next to Myka shouted as the music switched to a song Myka knew well from her less than crazy days on the quad.

Myka’s phone buzzed in her pocket with a text from Steve.

_Is this for real? I thought this only happened in movies._

_Guess not_ , Myka replied as she watched various people enter the circle to dance. At first it almost seemed like a joke but then as the music changed to something from the 80s things turned serious.

 

“I had no idea such things were possible,” Helena’s voice appeared in Myka’s ear.

“Hey,” Myka turned and gave her love a kiss on the cheek. “It’s quite something.”

“Indeed. Like out of those videos Claudia is so fond of watching.”

Myka had to admit she was impressed with the skill level on display. (And with Helena’s ability to get her wound up with her wandering hands).

She felt her phone vibrate again.

_Spotted the door guy over by the bar talking to a couple of the dance battlers.  They seem very excited._

“Come on,” Myka grabbed HG’s hand as the pushed their way through the crowd.

“He’s gone,” Steve shouted once they’d regrouped.  “Those are the kids he was talking too.”

“Let’s see what they know, shall we?” HG sauntered over and began a conversation.

 

 

“So you mean to tell me that the only way into this club is to earn a password by being the best in a dance battle?”

Myka didn’t need the Farnsworth. She could imagine the look on Artie’s face easily.

“Yes,” Steve sighed.  “When we went back to the club with the password the kids gave us we still couldn’t get in. It was a different guy at the door and he knew we didn’t earn that password.”

“Well, simple enough then, one of you needs to win that contest.”

“Yeah,” Steve trailed off. “We’re going to need a little help in that area.”

 

“So,” Myka checked her pockets to make sure she had her badge and keys. “Steve will be back tonight with the artifacts to help. I’m going to secure a practice space and you,” she flipped open the screen to her laptop. “Get to research.”

“Why must I be the one to enter this dance contest?”

“Because Helena you’re the only one of the three of us who can keep a beat and look good while doing it.  Plus with your background in Kempo you’ll be a natural.”

“Right,” Helena accepted the praise with a raised eyebrow. 

“And these documentaries and movies will help things seem more natural.” Myka smiled. “Hopefully.”

“Fine,” Helena sighed.

Myka leaned in and kissed HG’s frown away. “Have fun.”

“Let’s see what’s happening on Beat Street shall we?”

 

 

“The levels of irony right now,” Steve joked as he stood with Myka near the bar. They had returned three days later for old school night when they had heard another password might be earned.

“It won’t matter if she wins,” Myka watched as her partner again was in the middle of the crowded dance floor. 

“Well from what I read about Rock Steady Crew she should definitely win with the help of those artifacts.”

“Look,” Myka pointed towards the door. “There he is with another password.”

“Right on time,” Steve agreed as the music changed and the crowd formed a circle.

_Party people, party people, can ya’ll get funky?_

“Oh please, please, please say you got that on video,” Claudia laughed with delight as Steve pulled out his phone.

“Oh my god,” Claudia looked over at HG who sat with Myka on the couch at the B&B.  “Oh my god.”

“Um thank you,” HG said, blushing lightly.

“It was something,” Myka grinned. “Make sure and show Claude the one of Helena versus that big guy.”

“Darling you did not get video of that exchange.”

“Of course,” Myka leaned over and kissed HG on the cheek. “It was impressive.”

“And I was sore for days afterword.”

“I don’t think that was just from the dancing,” Steve said from next to Claudia.


	143. Mit Gewitter und Sturm aus fernem Meer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s also said that ever seven years those damned are allowed to set foot on dry land for three days. And if the captain can find her true love during that time she shall be released from her torment.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long ago in an email far away I once promised a Vodka update based on something Wagnerian to Ms Daphne Fielding. It took some doing and many false starts but I give you that update with a Bering and Wells spin on Der Fliegende Holländer.
> 
> And in keeping with MsD's love of angst and stories ending with death, well....let's just say this isn't as happy as some would have hoped. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think!

Helena had been apprenticed to Mistress Sophie at the age of 10 when her mother had sensed that that she might have the gift. After a visit to the village master Mr. Chataranga it was decided that the young girl would be sent three towns over since the old master had room for a new apprentice.

Helena waved goodbye to her family and began her new life as a healer and apothecary.  Mistress Sophie lived in a medium sized village next to the sea. It was a world of endless wonder for young Helena, who took to her role like few before her.  By age 15 she was a favorite of the local poor who she healed free of charge. By 18 she was working side by side with women and men double her age as the youngest master in several generations.

It was good work, rewarding work, but as the sun set she would often took out to the sea and wonder if there wasn’t more out there for her.

 

 

Looking up at the faded portrait on the wall of Der Fliegende Hollander years later she still wondered if her parents had made the right choice. She had saved countless souls, even spending time traveling with His Majesty’s armies as a healer during The War of the Fair. Many knew her by sight, even more by name.

But the longing, the emptiness she’d felt since childhood remained.

Only when she sat in this inn looking at a portrait so old no one living could remember the name of the captain in the picture did she feel a modicum of peace.

Perhaps after seven years away she could finally rest in the small sea side village where she had been tutored as a child.

_“You’ve been to this inn for the past three nights,” the daughter of the innkeeper noted several days prior. “Starring at that picture. Do you even know who that is?”_

_“No,” Helena admitted. “But there’s something about it. Like I’ve seen her before.”_

_“I doubt it,” Leena smiled and set down a full stein.  “That the legendary captain of The Dutchman, cursed to roam the seas for all eternity.”_

_“Cursed? Whatever for?”_

_“The legends say that the Captain was good and true but when her sister was violated then murdered she cursed God. Then the captain made a deal with Satan so she could enact her vengeance. Now she and those who helped her sail the seas forever, looking for others to join their ghostly crew.”_

_“Nonsense,” Helena shook her head._

_“It’s also said that ever seven years those damned are allowed to set foot on dry land for three days. And if the captain can find her true love during that time she shall be released from her torment.”_

 

Helena sipped her cup and nodded towards the bartender for another. The day had been a particularly trying one and the rise of foul weather as the sun had set  worsened her mood.

One of the old timers had been prattling on about how this was the “Dutchman’s storm” and that they should be wary since the ghost ship would be recruiting.

Helena had chuckled as she listened.

Suddenly the door blew open startling the few visiting the inn that night. After a moment several drenched and hooded figures entered.

Helena drained her drink, noticing how the old timer and his friends had suddenly fallen silent.

The strangers made their way to an empty table as the rest of the inn held its breath. After a moment one of the servers made her way over to the new comers.

“Four of your finest ales!” a jovial male voice proclaimed.  The owner pulled back his hood, revealing a rugged looking man of Helena’s age with dark brown hair and a devilish grin. “We’ve been at sea for some time.”

“Here here!” a lighter female voice replied. A young woman pulled with hair the color of amber pulled her hood down next. “I for one am ready for a drink.”

“Let’s not get carried away,” another man with a smooth head and piercing blue eyes advised. “You remember what happened last time.”

“But for them,” the first man grinned, “It’s been countless years since we’ve visited this port. No one will know.”

“I know,” another female voice spoke and Helena’s heart suddenly raced.  “We were run out of town and I want to enjoy what little time we have.”

Helena swallowed as she met familiar green eyes. Eyes she had been staring at for countless days thanks to the portrait that hanged behind them.

 

It was late (or perhaps early) when Helena found herself at a table alone with the green eyed stranger.  The woman’s companions had either moved to other locations (such as the rugged looking man and the bar maid to an upstairs room) or were involved in deep discussions over current events (as the red headed girl and her companion were with Leena, the innkeeper’s daughter.)

“A healer,” the mysterious woman smiled. “In my time no woman would be allowed such a role.”

“In your time?” Helena quirked a brow. “By all appearances you are younger than me. And I have been a master for many a year dear Captain. “

“Call me Myka,” the woman grinned. “Captain is so formal and I do not wish for us to be so,” she paused, grinning wickedly “ impersonal.”

 

 

Helena woke with a start. The morning sun was in the sky and bedding of the inn’s room scratched her bare skin.  The dashing green eyed Captain Myka was no longer in her bed. In her place was a beautiful flower and a lovely note. Helena grinned broadly as she read the terms of endearment left by her new lover.  The healer sighed happily as she lounged in the bed thinking of the passionate hours spent with Myka the night before.  When she later bid Leena good day as she left the inn she smiled, full of lightness she had not felt before.

 

 

The second night followed the same pattern as the first. A storm hovered over the village, causing almost everyone to be in a foul mood. Helena had worked hard to keep in good spirits but as the day went on and the townspeople demanded her services all traces of the night before were wiped clean.

Normally on a night such as this she would have forgone the inn and headed directly home. But the promise of green eyes and charming company found her sitting at her normal table. Leena had given her a towel to dry her long dark hair and a hot bowl of soup to ward off the chill.  Helena’s gaze drifted toward the portrait of the Dutchman’s captain.  There was no doubt that this person must be related to Myka in some fashion.

The door opened briefly as four familiar figures rushed into the inn.

“Every time,” Claudia pulled her damp red hair free from her hood. “Can we have a little sun? Just once?”

“You know the rules,” Steve ran a hand over his smooth head, “or you could swing my way?”

“Never,” Claudia rolled her eyes.

“Or maybe it’s time to change the rules,” Pete grinned and nodded towards Helena.

Myka turned from where she had hung her coat and smiled when she spotted Helena sitting at a nearby table.

“I’ll talk to you later,” with a waive she hurried off.

 

Helena held Myka’s sleeping form close.  They had spent time downstairs talking but more time upstairs than the night before. They had communicated in many other ways once the door to the small room had been shut.

And she’d never been happier or more content.

But she knew that Myka and her crew wouldn’t be staying much longer. A ship made its living on the open water and this small harbor offered only shelter.

Myka kissed her bare shoulder and pulled her tighter as Helena finally began to fall asleep.

 

“You’re up early,” Myka leaned over Helena, kissing her tenderly. “I was hoping not to wake you.”

“I missed you yesterday morning,” dark eyes traveled over Myka’s lean body, thinking how well she filled out a pair of trousers. “I wanted to see you off properly today.”

“We don’t have time,” Myka grinned.  “Please say that I will see you this evening?”

“Of course.  And the night after that?”

Myka’s face fell. “We head out to sea at dawn tomorrow. We can stay no longer than three days.”

“Well then,” Helena felt a wave of pain at the thought of how little time they had but recovered quickly. “What plans do you have for today then? If I’m only to have you for a few hours more then I’d like us to spend it together.”

“But what of your work?”

“I have some early appointments that must be taken care of,” she stood slowly, allowing the sheet to slide down revealing her nude form.  “But I am free after those.”

She grinned as Myka’s eyes grew darker.

 

 

Helena spent the afternoon with the captain, showing her some of her favorite places in and around the village.  Mrs. Lattimer, the baker’s wife had given them a small basket of fresh scones and sweets to snack on as Helena took them to Widow’s Peak.

The sun was setting over the calm sea, its orange glow cutting through the darkening blue of the sky.  Helena sat next to Myka atop the great cliff as they watched the golden orb sink lower in the horizon.

“This is beautiful.” Myka whispered, pulling Helena closer. “You’re beautiful.”

“As are you,” Helena leaned on the taller woman’s shoulder. “I can’t bear that you are leaving tomorrow. I’ve just found you.”

“But I must,” Myka replied sadly. “If I had a choice I would stay by your side always.”

“When will you return?” Helena asked. “How many months must I wait before I can see you again?”

“Helena,” Myka tipped the other woman’s head up and kissed her fiercely. “My dear Helena. You will be an old woman by the time my feet walk these lands again.”

“What do you mean?”

“Surely you must know who I am,” Myka watched Helena’s face fill with confusion.  “You’ve been gazing at my portrait for weeks. I am Captain Myka Bering of The Dutchman.”

 

Myka pulled away before Helena could respond. Once before she had let herself become too close to someone during their brief respite from the curse.  Sam had been kind and loving and for the first time since her sister’s death she had thought that he might be her one.

But when she had explained who she really was on the third night he laughed. When he realized she was telling the truth he fled.

Myka had told herself never again. Never again would she fall in love with a mortal.  But when she had seen Helena sitting in the inn, looking at the image her sister had created with such affection she couldn’t help herself.

 

“Myka,” Helena’s soft voice broke into Myka’s thoughts. “Myka, please look at me.”

After a moment she met Helena’s unwavering gaze.

“I know,” Helena swallowed. “Or at least part of me has known since you and your friends entered the inn three nights ago. I didn’t want to believe but now,” she smiled, “now that I love you how can I not?”

“You,” Myka rasped. “You love me?”

“I fell in love with you before I even knew you Myka Bering.”

“I love you too.” Myka pulled Helena into a passionate kiss.

 

“Did you feel that?” Steve asked, looking at Claudia.

“I did,” her eyes grew wide. “Do you think?”

“It has to be,” Steve pulled her into a hug. “She’s done it. We are finally free.”

 

Myka stood on the pier next to The Dutchman with Helena, the sun rising behind the hills of the village turning black sky to light.

“Thank you,” Myka pulled her love close. “Thank you for setting us free.”

Helena cried harder.  Yes, Helena had helped to end the curse on the crew of The Dutchman but their time had passed. When they left this morning they would finally be free to join their loved ones in the afterlife.

“Be brave,” Myka rasped as she fought back tears. “For me.”

“How do you say goodbye to the one person who knows you better than anyone else,” Helena asked.

“I wish I knew.”  Myka tearfully replied, pulling her in for a fiery kiss.

 

Helena stood at the edge of the peer as The Dutchman set sail. She could see Myka standing tall at the wheel giving orders and guiding her ship on its final journey.  She watched as the voices, then the crew and finally the ship itself faded away.

 

 

“Is that her?” the young man asked, pointing at the portrait on the wall.

“It is,” Leena smiled. Setting his drink down she brushed her loose grey curls back. “The great healer Helena Wells.”

“I’d read she’s from this village,” he smiled eagerly. “Did you know her?”

“I did,” Leena thought back to the charming woman with jet black hair who had sat in this very same spot starring at a picture of a legendary ship captain when she had been just the innkeeper’s daughter. “She would sit in this same spot every night drinking and talking with those in the tavern.”

“So is the tale true? That she died of a broken heart?”

Leena smiled and shook her head, moving on to serve other tables. 

Nodding to Mr. Nielson behind the bar she stepped outside for a bit of breather.  Questions about Helena were still difficult to answer. She thought of the last night she’d seen Helena Wells.  Of how after seven years to the day that Captain Bering had set sail, the healer had disappeared.  Some say she had left the town under the cover of night. Others say she had flung herself off of Widow’s Peak.

But Leena had watched from the shadows. Watched as Helena stood at the end of the great pier as the ancient ship approached.  How she had raced up the gangplank and into the arms of the captain as the crew cheered around them.  

 And how within a blink of an eye they were gone.

Leena hoped that somehow Helena and the Captain had gotten their happy ending. 


	144. Oh, I will surprise you sometime…I’ll come around when you’re down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We are in grave danger Corporal Bering,” Well replied, pulling her crossed arms tighter around her chest. “We must get off this planet.”  
> “There are a couple of ways we can make that happen,” Myka nodded. “So don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe.”  
> With a nod, she left.  
> “But who will keep you safe,” Myka heard as she headed back towards Pete and Secord.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since those Degenerate updates are slow in coming here's another style of space AU featuring a lone survivor from a mining ship found 57 years out of time.
> 
> In other words, an Aliens AU.
> 
> Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think.

Corporal Myka Bering had seen a lot of shit during her time as a colonial Marine. She still couldn’t believe sometimes she’d let Pete talk her into joining up. It had been about the free money for school since her father had refused to help her in any way when she’d told him she was taking Sarah Manning to prom.

The Marines didn’t care you fucked so when Pete had told her about all the perks of serving she’d signed up in spite, relishing the shocked expression her asshole father had worn when she’d told him.

The day before she left for basic.

 

That had been 13 years and dozens of planets ago.  She and Pete had somehow managed to be assigned to the same units the entire time. Somehow she found herself a Corporal in one of the top companies when the call came to check out LV-426.

Pete had a vibe from day one, talking about how this planet had a bad rep and that this civilian consultant Wells was practically a ghost.  Claudia had hacked into the Weyland-Yutani data banks and found out that yes, the story of Helena G. Wells was legit. She had been picked up after a hyper-sleep of 57 years. The first mate of Ship 12 had blown up her mining vessel because some predator had gotten on board and killed the crew.

“Well that sucks,” the red headed private leaded back, “says she had a kid too named Christina who died 25 years ago.”

 

And to top things off their old CO had been pulled for Sykes. Sykes, who had never been off world, who sent her team into to be slaughtered and had been laid out before they’d gotten back to the drop site thanks to some loose crates in the mad dash from under the atmospheric processing station.

She’d seen the look on Well’s face when they found those face huggers in the medical lab. She’d seen those creatures take down the majority of her crew under the plant.  She’d seen the terror in that colonist’s eyes when they’d screamed kill me before the aliens had attacked.

She now understood why Wells was the way she was.

“Game over man,” Secord shouted as he picked up a piece of wreckage from the crashed drop ship. “Game over.”

“Get your shit together,” Pete growled. “Let’s salvage what we can and get back to command center.”

 

“Are you okay?” Myka made sure that Wells heard her coming. The consultant had saved their lives back in the plant but hadn’t spoken much since the lab. She stood away from the group, starring out into the murky gray of the desolate colony.

“We are in grave danger Corporal Bering,” Well replied, pulling her crossed arms tighter around her chest.  “We must get off this planet.”

“There are a couple of ways we can make that happen,” Myka nodded. “So don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe.”

With a nod, she left.

“But who will keep you safe,” Myka heard as she headed back towards Pete and Secord.

 

“There,” Private Donovan pointed to the small burst of flame from the processing plant. “Cooling system has gone kaput.” The survivors were gathered around the monitor bay in the (mostly) secured command area of the colony station.

“How long before it explodes?” Wells asked.

“About 4 hours, give or take.”

“Can you make it to the transmitter in time?” Myka looked over at the team’s AI, Steve.

“Yes,” he replied. “But I must leave now.”

 

“Wells,” Myka greeted softly. “I thought I show you how to use this,” she held up her standard issue weapon. “Just in case things get dicey before we get off this rock.”

The pair were in the mess hall while the others monitored Steve’s progress towards the remote transmitter.

“Certainly,” she smiled, “and call me Helena.”

“Helena,” Myka felt her heart beat a bit faster, “then call me Myka.”

“Myka, how lovely.”

Corporal Bering quickly went through the basics of how to use her gun and tired not to notice how perfectly Helena fit against her body. Or how quickly the civilian picked up on how to use all parts of her pulse riffle.

Helena Wells was a formidable woman.

 

 

“Fuck,” Myka grunted as she popped another clip into her pulse riffle. They were on the run with those things chasing them through the air ducts as they raced to the hanger bay. Steve was guarding the drop ship to the best of his ability but even his AI reflexes would be overcome soon.

 

Sykes and Secord had bought them some time with their bit of (surprising) self sacrifice, and Wells, God bless Helena fucking Wells had hotwired the reinforced doors that had saved their asses from the explosion.

“Move it Marines,” Pete shouted as he shot another Alien. “Only another 100 meters and we’ve reached the bay.”

Myka looked over at Helena covered in sweat and grime as she took out another one of the bastards that now ran LV-426. She was so focused on the other woman she didn’t see the blow coming.

 

Helena held her weapon tighter as she watched the alien Queen throw the Marines (especially Myka) across the room. She could see Steve’s torso on the entry ramp of the drop ship, his lower half gone.

The former engineer growled as the Queen headed towards where Myka Bering lay. She had already lost too much in the short time she’d been in this new future.

Myka Bering would not fall into that category.

Helena hurried over to one of the idle class 4 loaders, strapping in quickly. With the machine’s bulk and height she could take the massive creature head on.

“Get away from her you bitch!” Helena screamed, causing the creature to turn and shriek in anger.

 

 

Sergeant Myka Bering sat on a bench across the street from Weyland-Yutani waiting patiently in the mid afternoon sun. Part of her still couldn’t believe what had happened on LV-426.

And that somehow she’d survived.

The end was a blur of running and fear, with a black out moment where apparently Helena had turned into some sort of bad ass and taken down the monster of the bunch.  She had vague memories of being dragged into the drop ship and strapped in by Helena and Pete before being placed into hyper-sleep.

Myka did remember (quite vividly) waking up in a hospital bay with an anxious Helena Wells attempting to read a worn copy of The Time Machine sitting in a chair nearby.

“A relative of yours,” she’d croaked as greeting.

Helena replied with a broad smile.

 

“So how did it go Wells?”

“Swimmingly,” Helena beamed, slipping her hand into Myka’s. “Further exploration of LV-426 has been banned. The families my ship, 12, have been rightfully compensated and I have been granted a substantial severance package for my years of service.”

“Fantastic,” Myka pulled Helena closer and kissed her lightly. “Come on, Pete and Claudia are getting us a table at the restaurant.”

 

 

  
150 years later…

“Doctor MacPherson,” the young tech hurried into the room. “We have the results.”

“Success?”

“The most promising yet,” he handed the doctor the chart, “looks like there’s a viable match between the alien and the host. Our first successful clone hybrid might be in the near future.”

“Finally,” MacPherson grinned. “And how is Emily holding up.”

“Miss Lake is responding well to treatments.”

“Excellent.”  



	145. When I’ve looked right through, see you naked but oblivious… and you don’t see me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What is it?” Myka asked, leaning closer to Helena.   
> “It’s,” Helena paused, “it’s nothing. Thought I glimpsed someone I knew.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suppose you could call this a bit of a season 5 fix it but told from a perspective that I don't think we've seen before. Or at least that much of.
> 
> Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think.

She’d been taking a break from work (and from other things).  Dallas had suggested she visit the estate by the lake but she’d turned her brother down.

It was time to disappear into a big city where you could be surrounded by people but still be totally alone.

She had planned on Europe but an untimely storm had stranded her in New York for a few days. A quick call to the firm and the penthouse became available.

“Nice to see you again Miss Manning.”

“How many times do I have to tell you Buddy, call me Giselle,” she replied with a grin.

 

Francis had recommended the bar, some new trendy spot in Soho.  Normally she would have never gone but her usual haunt was closed on Monday.

When the dark haired beauty walked in alone she made a mental note to send Francis a thank you gift.

 

“Are you like me Miss Wells,” Giselle gave a small smile, “awaiting the next port in the storm or is New York your home?”

Helena Wells replied with a smile and a sip of her drink.  “I am more concerned with the present moment and what will happen next.”

“And what would you like that to be?”

 

She spent the entire flight to Paris lost in memories of the night before.  By the end of the transatlantic flight she had determined two things:

Helena Wells was the best sex she’d ever had.

She had to see that woman again.

 

 

“I grew up not far from here,” Helena brushed dark hair back from her eyes. They were in London three weeks later, walking and enjoying each other’s company.

“Isn’t HG Wells’ house nearby,” she’d asked.  “I love The Shape of Things to Come.”

“I find Wells later works a bit lacking in some respects.”

She chuckled. “Well not every book can be The Time Machine.”

 

 

A week in London led to time spent in Spain followed by the height of the summer season in Ibiza.

“So is this a fling or has someone finally snagged you Giselle?” her brother had asked late one June night.

“Right now it’s just a good time.”

“I hear that ‘but’ in your voice G.”

She sighed. “I don’t know Dallas. There’s something there and then there isn’t.”  


The phone rang at 3am. She pulled Helena closer and ignored that ringtone hoping for voicemail.

Two minutes later her phone began again.

She pulled away from Helena who remained naked and oblivious to the call.

“Manning,” she whispered.

“We have a situation that needs your involvement.” Potter’s voice crackled through the speaker.

“I’m on a vacation.”

“I know,” he sighed. “I’m sorry G. You’re the only one who can handle this deal. It’s not far. Jefferson and Deborah are in Athens waiting for you.”

She looked over at her lover’s slim form, pushing down an emotion that she was not ready to deal with.

“Fine. Give me a day and send me the details.”

“You’re the best G.”

 

Three months later Helena had burst through the door of the New York penthouse, shoving her roughly against the wall.

“Don’t you ever,” she had drawled, her accent becoming more pronounced, “do that again.”

“Sorry,” she’d sighed as lips trailed down her neck, as fingers raised her skirt higher and higher.

 

She had been nearly nine months off the job, living with Helena in the woman’s loft in Tribeca when the call came.

Helena turned pale and clutched the phone, fingers turning white.  She knew by the look on her lover’s face that the news was not good.  Her mind thought death of someone dear, her instincts said something else.

The bubble was about to burst.

 

It wasn’t the first time she’d heard the name Myka Bering come from Helena’s mouth. She’d always suspected there was more to the relationship that Helena liked to admit. Her friend, not quite lover, was in a new relationship and had called Helena to tell her the good news.

Helena was devastated.

She did her best to console her lover not quite girlfriend that night. She’d been in that place before, feeling the blues over what could have been or what  had once been.

But this was something more.

And it wasn’t good.

 

A year later she found herself back in New York after completing another job. Potter had given her a few days off since she’d been working nonstop for nearly ten months.

Dallas had flown in for a couple of days to check in on his big sister. He worked for a different branch of the firm. One with more flexibility and less risk.

“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” he’d said when Helena had walked through the door.

She couldn’t reply so he’d turned his head to see the couple take a seat at the bar. A slim dark haired woman next to another with brown curls.

“That’s her, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Have you talked at all since?”

“No. I thought it’d be better.”

“For who?”

As if she felt the weight of her stare, Helena turned to scan the crowd, eyes locking briefly with hers then moving on.

 

“What is it?” Myka asked, leaning closer to Helena.

“It’s,” Helena paused, “it’s nothing. Thought I glimpsed someone I knew.”


	146. And if you’ll have me I can provide everything that you desire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myka watched as her partner shifted in the chair. It had been years since she’d danced for sweaty dollars in a shady Atlanta club. But there was just something about tonight that brought out the Agent in her.  
> And one lap dance really wasn’t enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is, the epilogue to that Stripper AU found in chapters 102, 103, 106, 108, 111, 113, 115, 118 and 125 of Vodka. And as promised, we move into Mature territory for this one. As mature as I ever think I can get myself to write.
> 
> So if sexy times isn't your thing you might want to skip this one. If it is, then read on and please let me know what you think.

“It’s time.”

“For?”

“You’ll see.”

 

HG allowed herself to be lead to a single chair sitting in the middle of their living room. They’d just come home from Steve’s graduation party where she’d danced a little too close and let hands travel a little too far for public consumption.

Summer session was about to start with Myka’s accelerated course load a night out like this would be few and far between.

But the feelings, well, those would never end.

 

Myka watched as her partner shifted in the chair. It had been years since she’d danced for sweaty dollars in a shady Atlanta club. But there was just something about tonight that brought out the Agent in her.

And one lap dance really wasn’t enough.

 

Music filled the dim apartment. HG turned, not bothering to hide the surprise, quickly followed by lust as Myka began to sway to the low music.  She was transported for a moment to a back room four years ago where she’d first set eyes on the exquisite woman before her.

 

“You know,” Myka’s voice was low, husky. “The rules say that there can be no touching.”

HG swallowed as Myka dropped her shirt and swung her hair, turning to grind on Helena’s lap.

“I,” Helena faltered as Myka leaned back, her hands sliding up into dark curls.

She slipped off Helena and spun around. “What was that?” she smirked, pulling her tight jeans down slowly with an exaggerated sway of her hips.

“I wish,” Helena began again, “I want to change the rules darling.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Myka, clad only in her underwear moved back on to HG’s lap, kissing her fiercely.

Helena moaned as Myka’s hips ground down on her lap and buried her hands in thick hair.  She felt Myka working at her shirt, pulling open the buttons quickly and shoving it off her shoulders.

“God,” Myka whimpered as Helena kissed her throat, “what you do to me.”

“I could say the same,” Helena sighed, leaning up for another kiss.

Myka’s hands slipped down her back, pulling the seated woman forward slightly so she could unclasp her bra.

“So beautiful,” she whispered, sliding her hands around to Helena’s breasts.

Helena sighed and quickly pulled down Myka’s bra to take a straining nipple in her mouth.

“Yes,” Myka hissed, grinding down hard on Helena’s lap.

Helena replaced her mouth with her hand as she leaned up and kissed Myka again. The other traveled down a lean stomach.

“Wait,” Myka pulled back, feeling Helena’s hand toying with the top of her underwear. 

She slid off her lover again and slowly dropped to her knees.

“I want to even the score,” she grinned wickedly.

“Oh,” Helena sighed as Myka worked on the clasp of her pants while her tongue worked on one of her breasts.  Pulling slightly, the pants came off quickly.

“There we go,” Myka looked up from Helena’s chest.  With a flip of her long her over her shoulder, she kissed down the trembling stomach to the top of dark underwear.

“Oh my God,” HG moaned as Myka pulled the garment off with her teeth.

“I love you Helena,” Myka sighed, kissing up an inner thigh. “I love you so much.”

Helena barely recognized the sounds coming from her mouth as Myka made love to her with a clever and talented tongue.

 

“Come here,” Helena pulled Myka up and into her lap, tasting herself in their kiss. 

This time her hand wasn’t stopped when it slipped down Myka’s stomach.

“You feel incredible,” Helena sighed as she kissed Myka’s collarbone.

Myka was too overcome to reply as talented fingers worked inside her.

“God I love you,” Helena whispered as Myka cried out in release.

 

They sat in the chair for some time, simply holding one another while the song Myka had selected played on repeat.  Helena looked over to see her pants not far from the chair.

“Love,” Helena kissed Myka’s bare shoulder. “I need to get something from my trousers.”

Myka took her place on the chair, not bothering hold back the sob when she saw the small box in Helena’s hand.

“Oh my god,” Myka rasped out. “Yes.”

“I haven’t even asked,” Helena knelt down on one knee.

“You don’t have to,” Myka pulled the other woman into her lap.


	147. That Prison AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What lawyer?”  
> “You know the one that turned Fredric in. The press said she got a deal. Guess that didn’t work out how she planned huh.”  
> “I suppose not,” a slim hand pulled the top folder from the latest arrivals in her prison. “Thanks Steven.”  
> “Just doing my job boss.”  
> Dark eyes widened as she read the record before her.  
> “Oh Myka. What have you gotten yourself into?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cow has it been two months since I've updated Vodka? Wow.
> 
> Sorry for the delay. There's been a lot of starts and stops on these final chapters and the distraction of a Mad Max AU and a Smash AU pulling me away from my random. 
> 
> This is the last of my tribute works for the writers who have been my favorites over the past few years. So this one is for my Warehouse 12 partner in crime Roadie, who's The Long Way Home is a must read. I hope this is okay because my prison background consists of Cool Hand Luke, OZ and Orange is the New Black. 
> 
> Thanks again for reading!

_“Bering and Wells,” he sighed. “What is this, the fifth or sixth time I’ve seen you this year?”_

_Principle Nielson set down the folder and took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes with a sigh._

_“You are both far too intelligent for this behavior.  Smoking on campus.  Skipping class. Fighting other students.”_

_He lowered his hand and looked both girls in the eye.  “I’ve spoken to your parents.  Collectively we’ve decided that the best thing is to keep you two separated for your own good.”_

_“Bollocks!”_

_“That’s bullshit!”_

_“You did this to yourselves. Effective immediate you’ve been transferred to Jefferson Miss Wells.   Principle Chataranga expects you in his office at 8am on Monday._

 

20 years later

Claudia bumped Leena’s arm and nodded towards the tall curly haired woman seated a few tables over in the cafeteria. 

“That’s her, isn’t it?”

“Fredric’s lawyer?” Leena asked. Claudia nodded. “I heard that she worked some deal so that she wouldn’t have to do hard time.”

“Deals fall through,” Claudia picked up her tray and headed over to the lone woman.

“Hey fresh meat,” the young woman greeted, plopping down across from the other woman. “I’m Claudia. Welcome to Shangri-La.”

“I’d hardly call this place a paradise.”

“It’s not bad,” Leena said as she sat next to Claudia. “My brother is upstate in max.  It could be a lot worse.”

“I’m Leena,”   she smiled, “and you are?”

“Myka. Myka Bering.”

 

 

“Here are the latest transfers,” Steve set the stack of folders in front of the Warden. “And our newest vacationers in this stack.  Including the lawyer.”

“What lawyer?”

“You know the one that turned Fredric in. The press said she got a deal. Guess that didn’t work out how she planned huh.”

“I suppose not,” a slim hand pulled the top folder from the latest arrivals in her prison.  “Thanks Steven.”

“Just doing my job boss.” 

Dark eyes widened as she read the record before her.

“Oh Myka. What have you gotten yourself into?”

 

 

“That the library,” Claudia pointed to the left. “And inside is the computer lab. Don’t get any ideas about access though. They have a pretty good lockdown on what we can and can’t surf.”

“Aren’t you a hacker?” Myka asked.

“I am. But I’m not stupid. I’m on short time and I’m not about to blow it.”

“That’s the TV room,” Leena pointed to the right. “Again, limited on what we can watch.”

“No Skin-a-max,” Claudia joked. Leena rolled her eyes.

“Officer Lattimer what’s shakin?” Claudia gave one of the guards a high five.

“Nothing much Donovan, just another day keeping you out of solitary,” he grinned. “You’re the lawyer, Bering right?”

“Myka Bering.”

“Welcome to Shangri-la. Tuesday is taco night and the movie night on Thursday beings and 7pm sharp.”

“What’s on for this week?”

“I’m so glad you asked Leena,” he smiled. “It’s one of my favorites.”

“Porky’s?” Leena replied.

“You wish. I got them to show the original Star Wars. One without all of the enhancements.”

“Nice!” Claudia gave him another high five. “We’ll definitely be there.”

 

“He seems nice,” Myka observed when the trio was out of ear shot.

“Lattimer is one of the good ones,” Leena agreed. “He cares about the prisoners and treats us with respect.”

“And you don’t have to worry about ‘random checks’ aka free grope sessions with him like you do with Diamond or Sykes. Those guys are assholes.” Claudia murmured.

 

 

“So how are you holding up?”

“It’s better than I thought it’d be.”

Myka leaned back in the cheap plastic chair. She’d been here for two weeks and with the help of Claudia and Leena things had been okay. “How is the appeal?”

“Slow,” Sam, Myka’s lawyer and former law partner replied. “You know everyone appreciates what you did in coming forward but you still worked with one of the most powerful crime lords in the state.”

“And?”

“Well there’s considerable doubt to just how innocent you really are.”

Myka rolled her eyes and leaned forward.

“You and I both know that I had no idea of the criminal activities that she was a part of. I took that case because the firm needed the money. And because you were too busy trying to save your marriage.”

“Don’t drag me into this Bunny.”

“Never call me that again,” Myka hissed. She and Sam had been friends for a long time. So long that she could overlook his sometimes sloppy work and lack of focus. If she had a choice he wouldn’t be her defense attorney that was certain.

But no one wanted to touch her case with a ten foot poll so here she was stuck in prison thanks to a shitty plea deal Sam had worked out with the State. If she had handled her own case she wouldn’t be in this predicament but bad advice from a once trusted source had nipped that idea in the bud.

 “Fine,” Sam leaned back. “And how’s it going with the Warden?”

“I haven’t seen Warden Vaughn. Why would I?”

Sam smirked. “You don’t know, do you?”

“Can you spare me the twenty questions today?”

“Simmer down okay?” Sam raised his hands in defeat, “I’m on your side.”

“Are you?”

“Yes.”

Myka waited.

“So Vaughn had a mild heart attack two weeks ago right before you were sent here. They had to find a replacement since he opted to take early retirement.”

“And?”

“The Warden is someone from your past actually.”

“And ex?”

“Sort of. Does the name Helena Wells ring any bells?”

“Shit.”

 

_20 or so years ago_

_“This is some total crap HG,” Myka paced the other girl’s bedroom. She had snuck out of her parent’s house despite being on lockdown. “How can they send you to a school across town?”_

_“Nielson’s got some pull with the school board,” Helena sighed. “My parents weren’t thrilled either. But it was this or being expelled and sent to special school upstate.”_

_“What!?”_

_“Sadly the Wells name doesn’t carry the same weight as Bering does in the city. At least this way there is still some chance we might see one another?”_

_“Oh Helena,” Myka stopped and sat down next to her friend on the bed. “Of course we’ll still see each other! We’re best friends no matter what!”_

_“Are you sure?”_

_“Of course,” Myka smiled and pulled her into a hug.  “And in a couple of years when we can drive we’ll be hanging out every weekend just like always.”_

 

 

HG watched as Myka spoke with her lawyer, her mind drifting back to one of the last times she had seen the other woman.

Soon after they had been separated Myka fell in with a new crowd at her school and left behind her ‘bad girl’ ways. Quickly forgetting Helena and the promises they had made.

Helena had kept to herself during high school, making a few friends as she focused on getting out of there as soon as possible.  She wound up graduating a year early and moving away for school.

But things had happened alter the course of a once bright career in Engineering.  Things that had enriched her life far beyond monetary awards.

“You okay boss?”

“I’m fine Peter,” HG sighed and looked at the guard. “Just thinking about the past.”

“Don’t get lost there,” Pete nodded as he entered the room to replace Hernandez on watch.

 

Myka’s attention was pulled from Sam’s droning on by the movement of the guards changing shift in the visiting room.  

As her eyes swept past Officer Lattimer she froze as Helena’s met hers.

 


	148. I know I was a lot of things but I am good, I am grounded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Did you ever think that you would see a day like today?”  
> Helena pulled Myka closer. “It is far better than I could have ever imagined.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today (well now yesterday) was an amazing day. Never in my lifetime did I expect to see the social change that swept through the United States made marriage equal for all. I grew up in the time of AIDS and evil lesbians, barely even knowing what gay was until I figured out that I was one of 'them'. And it still took some time before I was finally okay with knowing that thinking women were far more appealing than men wasn't wrong or that I had to hide it from everyone. The thought of two people being able to live together who were like that and be happy wasn't possible.
> 
> Wow have times changed.
> 
> I can tell you that the chances of me ever marrying are slim but I will always be thankful for the knowledge that if I did find someone that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with I could. And that we could share our lives equally and openly without having to do anything different than my straight friends. It truly is amazing.
> 
> And what better way to celebrate the day with a happy ending (I know from me) for what has become and will always be the greatest fictional couple of all time Bering and Wells. I'll also be posting this in Wells and Wollcot since it straddles both universes.
> 
> So if you got married or can get married now, congratulations! Let's enjoy this magical Pride weekend America.

June 26, 1894

“I’d forgotten how dashing you look in a uniform,” HG smirked at Wolly’s eye roll.

“I haven’t worn this since we worked the Diamond Jubilee.” He sighed. “I hoped I wouldn’t find myself in this outfit again.”

“These state weddings,” she adjusted her hair in the hallway mirror. “I feel as if I’m in costume as well.”

Wolly arched an eyebrow. “I thought you said this was the latest style from Paris?”

“It is,” HG turned and smoothed down the dress. “But I’d still me far more comfortable in a pair of trousers.”

She took her partner’s arm as they left the home she shared with her brother and daughter. Both were on holiday with the Wells’ parents.  Charles would normally accompany her to such an important social affair but given its Warehouse connections she was relieved that William would be her escort.

 

“This is the third wedding I’ve attended this summer,” Wolly looked out the window as the carriage carried them closer to the Tanahill estate where the ceremony was to take place.  “Two mates from the Yard and one of my cousins in the winter.”

“It’s been quite some time for myself, though Charles has represented the Wells clan at recent events.”

Helena waited. She could tell that something was bothering her friend. They were both close to Patel and had mentored the young man as he learned the ways of the Warehouse. Samir had been paired with them for several retrievals, more so than any other Agent in the past eight months.  Wolcott had even been one of the organizers of Patel’s Stag Night a few weeks prior.

“Do you ever wonder,” he spoke softly. “If we will ever find happiness?”

“Well,” Helena thought for a minute. “I am quite content now. Christian is thriving. Charles and I are about to begin work on another novel. I have you as my partner at the Warehouse,” she smiled.

“Plus I haven’t been shot with one of Nikola’s guns recently.”

“Well, there is that,” Wolcott agreed. “But after attending so many celebrations this year I find myself wanting some of that joy for myself.  That is what I speak of when I mention happiness.”

“I once thought that as a Warehouse Agent it would be impossible to find such things.  There would be no time for love and certainly no time for family if one didn’t come already prepared into its service.  But seeing Samir find both things while in the service of twelve…”

“It’s something you never considered.”

“Yes,” he finally turned from the window. “Of course there is another issue to deal with as well.”

“Indeed.”

Helena was well aware of what Wolcott spoke off. It was one of the many reasons they made such good partners. There would never be a chance, especially on William’s part, that more than a platonic love would overtake them.

“I can envision many things for the new century Wolly,” HG took one of his hands in hers. “But that is not one of them.”

“I have to hope that someday a descendent of Wells will find happiness,” he squeezed and let go. “Regardless of their circumstance.”

“I hope so as well.”

 

June 26, 2015

“Why is it always so HOT when we come here?” Pete hopped back into the driver’s seat.

“Well it is summer,” HG replied, adjusting the air conditioning vent. She and Pete had been assigned retrieval in what her partner had called “BFE Texas”.  

“I will be glad to return to an area with cell reception,” Helena pulled out her phone and frowned that the device still showed no connection.

“Well the hotel is in El Paso.  You’ll be able to call Myka then.”

“That is not the only reason,” HG huffed while Pete chuckled.

“Right,” he teased. “I’m sure you want to catch up with the news and check emails and see where you are on the leader board on Bejeweled Blitz.”

“I am not taking your bait.”

“Okay HG. Suit yourself. Just know you’ll never take that top spot from Claude.”

 

About an hour outside of their destination, Helena felt her phone vibrate multiple times signaling reception had finally returned.

She bypassed the many notifications and went directly to the texts from Myka.

Pete pulled his eyes from the road when he heard HG gasp.

“You okay over there?”

“Yes,” Helena fought back tears.  “Very much so.”

Pete got hit with a huge vibe.

“Are you sure cause I’m kinda vibing out big time right now.”

“Myka is going to be meeting us in El Paso,” Helena looked up from her phone.  “We are not spending the night but heading back to South Dakota.”

“Warehouse at Defcon 1?”

“Far from it,” Helena pulled up her news app. “She and I are getting married tomorrow morning.”

 

June 26, 1894

The wedding had been a smashing success.  Samir and his bride had been radiant, the love the shared shining through as strong as any artifact currently housed in 12. Wolly had pulled himself out of his melancholy mood and rather enjoyed himself, making a new acquaintance with one of the groomsmen (from what HG could tell).

She had danced with her fellow Agents and sipped a fine Brandy with Chataranga while discussing some of HG’s side projects.  And during a quiet moment she had be provided the opportunity to slip away with one of the brides many female cousins into the garden.

But she had been in a mood since her discussion with Wolcott and surprised herself by declining the offer.

She hadn’t lied when she explained her contentment with her currently life. If she wasn’t focused on the Warehouse, Christina held all her attention.  Charles was always a source of vexation as siblings were but she loved him none the less.

Helena knew her charms could keep her social schedule full as well and she never found herself lacking when in need of companionship.

But Wolly had set her to thinking about the future, beyond the technical advances that the looming 20th century would hold.  Perhaps it was the hint of scandal slowly swirling around Oscar, or Rudyard’s ever present loathing of all things Wells.

The only future she could envision for those of her ilk involved Bethlem or worse.

She would have to ponder why such a bleak outcome (one that she had readily accepted long ago) troubled her so now.

 

June 27, 2015

“So early,” Pete moaned and Claudia grunted in agreement. 

“I’ve got coffee,” Abigail and Steve joined the pair on the courthouse steps.  “This should help.”

“You’d think that with the whole ‘we’re getting married’ thing they would get here before us.”  Claudia observed.

“They had a late night,” Pete waggled his eyebrows.

“I know,” Steve agreed. “I wound up sleeping on the couch.”

“Children,” Artie bustled up the steps. “What are you doing standing out here? Let’s go!”

“But they aren’t even here yet,” Claudia protested.

“Yes they are. Myka just texted me they are the third couple in line. We’re going to miss it.”

 

 

 

“Did you ever think,” Myka said much later. After the ceremony and the tears (mostly by Artie) and the celebratory breakfast at Pete’s favorite diner.  After the surprise visit from Mrs. Fredric with congratulations and a week’s vacation at one of the Regent’s more secluded and scenic locations.  After Helena had showed with words and with hands and with lips how much she loved Myka beyond others was the question was asked.

“Did you ever think that you would see a day like today?”

Helena pulled Myka closer.  “It is far better than I could have ever imagined.”


	149. Today and every day in between

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you ready love,” Helena appeared at her side.   
> “I am,” Myka made a swipe at her eyes.  
> “Let me,” Helena pulled out a tissue and carefully wiped Myka’s cheeks. “Take this one,” she handed over the tissue. “I have another.”  
> “Will you?”  
> “I will be at your side. Always.” Helena smiled and dropped her hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are at chapter 149. I almost can't believe that Vodka is almost done. I promised one last gut punch of a chapter before I closed up shop. And this is it.
> 
> If it tells you anything, I got a little misty during the editing process as I re-read this one. I know that what makes me sad might not make everyone sad but it's definitely up there for me as one of the most angst filled chapters of Vodka. 
> 
> There's a major character death due to illness in this one. And some homophobic lines/ideas as well so be warned. 
> 
> I'm still caught up in the sweeping changes that have happened for LGTBQ in the past week. The time period that this one is set is only a couple of decades ago so to be where we are today is just so amazing.
> 
> Enough rambling! Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think.

Myka sighed and retied her hair in a loose ponytail.  This latest shipment was taking far longer to inventory and unload than she’d planned.  Todd had called out today to attend a last minute meeting for the crisis center. Their annual fundraiser was a couple of days away and one of the sponsors was thinking about backing out…

The bookstore manager had waved him off, telling him to come in over the weekend to make up his hours.

She looked down at her watch, eyebrows raised in surprise at the time.  Claudia should have been here 20 minutes ago for the closing shift.

Before she could get to the phone to call Artie, Claudia’s guardian, the young red head burst through the door.

“Myka!” she gasped.  “Myka! Steve collapsed in the street. They took him to St. Vincent’s.”

Myka pulled the sobbing girl into her arms, fighting back tears herself. 

Steve had been the first to welcome Myka to the city when she’d moved to New York in 1975. They had even been roommates for a brief time in until Liam had come into the picture.

They were still neighbors, living in the same building a few blocks away from the bookstore that Myka worked.  Claudia was one of the building’s many kids and Steve’s shadow.

_She reminds me of my little sister he’d told Myka one day over drinks._

“How long ago did it happen? Is he still at the hospital?” Myka pulled back a little and willed the teen to calm a little.

“This morning, Artie told me.” Fresh tears began. “Artie said that he happened to look out the window and see Steve there on the sidewalk. No one wanted to help him because he’s sick and has the lesions on his face.  Artie called Kosan and they got him to the hospital. I just got home from school but Artie wouldn’t let me go see him!”

“It’s okay,” Myka hugged Claudia again. “It’s okay.  Helena’s working so we can sneak you in.”

 

 

“Dr. Wells,” she glanced up from the chart. “A word, please.”

“Of course Dr. Sykes.” HG rolled her eyes causing a couple of the nurses to snicker as she followed the department head into the break room.

“Dr. Wells,” he paused, “it was brought to my attention today that you admitted three patients with symptoms of GRID.  Is that true?”

“It is.”

“And have you not been instructed that St. Vincent’s currently not prepared to handle those highly contagious patients?”

“Because of your fear and bigotry Dr. Sykes?”

“Look Wells,” his face became flush. “Policy is policy.”

“I thought our policy was to help others get well. To save lives. These men and women who are sick, who are dying, deserve the best treatment they can get.  To ease their suffering during their final hours on this Earth.”

“And they can do that at another hospital, or better yet, at home.”

HG ran a frustrated hand through her hair.

“Look Wells I understand your soft spot for these patients. That you are of the same ilk. And you’ve probably lost a friend or two because of what’s going around. But you know the rules.”

A dozen career ending retorts flew through her brain before she replied.

“I’ve swore to help the sick Dr. Sykes.  And I always will, regardless of who they are or who they love.”

“Understood. Then this is your final warning.  Next time you decide to change the rules you’re suspended.”

 

There was a knock on the door before it burst open.

“Dr. Wells, one of your patients is coding.”

“Shit,” she quickly followed Nurse Hernandez out of the room and down the hall.

“Oh no,” she whispered as she rounded the corner to Steve’s room.

 

“Help him!” Liam, Steve’s partner shouted. “Oh God, Steve!”

With a nod, Hernandez gently moved the frantic man into the hall.

“Come on Steve,” HG grunted as she prepared to shock his heart back to life. “Come on.”

 

 

“How is he?” Pete’s face was white with worry.

“Hey,” Myka pulled her best friend into a hug in the waiting room.  She had closed the store early and with Artie’s permission brought Claudia to the hospital.  She had called Pete who was wrapping up his shift at the Fire Department to let him know.

“Amanda’s gonna pick up Artie and head down here with some dinner.” Pete sat down next to Myka and a dozing Claudia. “Is he?”

“No,” Myka swallowed. “One of the ward nurses, Kelly, came down and told me that he flat lined but Helena pulled him back.”

“Thank God. So he’s gonna be okay?”

“He’s end stage cancer thanks to GRID,” Myka felt a weight settle in her chest. “If not today then soon.”

 

“He’s awake,” Helena explained to the small group in the hall. “But just barely. Please don’t take too long.  He doesn’t have much time left.”

Artie caught a sagging Claudia while Pete and Amanda stood ready to assist.  Myka stepped forward and squeezed the doctor’s hand briefly.  They would talk when they got home.

Pete and Amanda went in first. The fire fighter was full of jokes and she could hear Liam and Steve’s low laughter from where she waited her turn in the hall. Dr. Wells had drifted back to the nurse’s station to check a couple of files and update the team on Steve’s status. 

Myka hoped that Steve passed away while her partner was working. At least they wouldn’t take his body away in a garbage bag then.

Claudia and Artie went in next.  She could hear Steve’s soft voice talking about all of the great things the teen would do with her life and how he’d always be watching. He asked her to take care of Liam and to make sure he didn’t turn to an all junk food diet.

Myka moved further down the hall as the pressure in her chest increased. This was it.

“Are you ready love,” Helena appeared at her side.

“I am,” Myka made a swipe at her eyes.

“Let me,” Helena pulled out a tissue and carefully wiped Myka’s cheeks. “Take this one,” she handed over the tissue. “I have another.”

“Will you?”

“I will be at your side. Always.” Helena smiled and dropped her hands.

 

Myka heard the door open and close just past 5am on what looked to become a bright July morning. Helena had told her that she was going to stay past her shift until Dr. Secord started at 7am.

_He’s one of the few doctors like me who aren’t ruled by fear.  His brother’s gay._

She waited for Helena to drop her bag and head to the bathroom to shower. For a moment she was able to drift off. The sounds of the other woman helping to calm her frayed nerves.

 

_What you think they’ll say when this is all done, Steve had asked as he held hands with Myka in the hospital room. When they find a cure for this cancer and we can all go back to living?_

_I’ll be thinking of you that day and every day in between, Myka had replied.  Helena had rested a hand on her shoulder._

 

Helena slipped into bed and pulled Myka close, resting her head in between the other woman’s shoulders, giving her back a gentle kiss.

“He went quietly,” she spoke softly, clinging tightly as Myka’s body began to convulse in sobs.  “Liam was at this side the entire time.  He smiled, squeezed Liam’s hand and let go.  Kelly and Jackie and a couple of the other nurses helped me prepare his body and Dr. Sykes actually knew of a funeral home that would take him.”

Myka continued to sob, turning to pull Helena into her arms.  She felt her lover’s tears blend with her own as the sun rose on another hot day in the city.

 

 

July 24th, 2011

Myka set the marriage certificate on the mantle with a grin. She and Helena had lined up early that morning before the doctor’s shift at the hospital and made it official.

After nearly 20 years together they now shared the same rights and Pete and Amanda or Claudia and Fargo.  Hopefully someday soon same sex marriage would be legal in all 50 states.

As she stepped back to review her handy work her eyes scanned the various photos of their life together.  Vacations to see her sister in Denver, trips across the country, to see Helena’s brother in London.

Her smile turned watery as she pulled out a picture that had slipped behind the rest.  Todd had taken the picture when she’d been promoted to manager of the bookstore (that she now owned). They had been so young then.

Helena pressed closely to her side, kissing a blushing cheek. Pete pulling a funny face while Amanda slapped his chest.

And Steve and Liam, adorable with Claudia pressed between them.  Young and alive looking on with amusement in their faces.

(Liam had died three years after Steve from what was now called AIDS. Claudia at his side.)

“Today and every day in between,” she said, setting the picture in front of the marriage certificate.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it! Only one more chapter to go for Vodka. I want it to be special so there's no time table (other than by the end of the year) before I get it done. I am planning on adding an index of all of the mini-series as chapter 151 sometime down the line also.


	150. I decorated the altars with flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Write about who you were. Write about who you could be. Write about who you are.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. So here we are the final chapter of The Vodka Made Me Do it Series. I almost can't believe the end is here. 
> 
> So first and most importantly, thank you everyone who has taken the time to read this madness. Special shout out the folks who left kudos and (especially) feedback. I've written fanfic since the Xena era and have never had a series with such a positive response from the fandom. It really means a lot to me that so many people seemed to enjoy even just a little of this one. I hope that you'll continue to come back to this when you're feeling nostalgic for all those Bering and Wells possibilities. 
> 
> Special shout out to Apparitionism who gave this final chapter a once over to make sure it made sense.
> 
> There are some references to previous chapters in this one: 1, 98, 100 and chapter 20 of Wells and Wolcott. It's not necessary to read them (or listen to Vissi d'arte) but they might help.
> 
> Okay, again, thank you so much for reading and everything! I'll still be working on my other series so I'm not gone from the fandom!

Helena sat in front of the open journal, pen in hand, while fragments of ideas danced through her head.  Ever since her ordeal with the Regents she had been hesitant to write the most important story of her career but the desire had become overwhelming. So many of the fantasies she had concocted in that small barren room now seemed so trivial.

(Write about who you were. Write about who you could be. Write about who you are.)

The emotion behind the outpouring had not been.  During her time under Regent supervision she had no idea if she would finally be allowed to rejoin the misfit family of Agents at thirteen. There had been so many mistakes, so many missteps…and the fact that she had no desire to become a full Agent again certainly didn’t stand in her favor.

HG Wells was a survivor but there was a moment where she wondered if even she couldn’t change the rules one last time.

 

But like Dickens she had landed on her feet outside the drab room. Back at the Bed and Breakfast and in the arms of someone whom no words could describe.  Now the days were spent working as a consultant for various companies (including the Warehouse) and much to the surprise of herself, fleshing out those many possibilities dreamed up during desperation.

And the nights, the glorious nights spent beside Myka in quiet repose or recreation.

Helena smiled as she drifted into remembrance of last night’s recreation for a moment.  Shaking her head slightly she refocused on the task at hand.

 

 

The ideas and words had been easy with Charles.  Mars was an exotic location full of potential. The future, the wonder was endless.  And in that room the alternative versions of herself were plenty.

Those stories, those fantasies, hadn’t been taxing to convey.  The actor, the engineer, the scientist, the inventor, the hero, the villain-well those tropes were old hat and those penny dreadfuls and pulp fictions had been easy to concoct and sold well.

They were not far from her own personas and the love interest in all of those tales with her striking beauty and incorruptible soul had been, well, simple to construct from personal experience.

 

Helena looked down at the empty page before her, smiling as Steve’s recording of Vissi d’arte drifted through the wall.  (So many excellent versions were available on the internet, thought Te Kanawa had become her favorite. Duncan would have loved the modern era of opera. The most recent staging of Tosca  at The Met had been spectacular.) 

She thought back to the premiere and her time with Wolcott at the dawn of the 20th century. Then more recently a modern rendition during a rare mission in Italy with Myka.  Both times had been harrowing for different reasons but rewarding none the less.

She had long ago accepted that there would always be something about the heightened emotions of opera that would resonate with her during the most critical moments.  Joy and pain framed in a dramatic picture that a times could be equally violent or serene depending on the circumstance.

Helena wondered if this moment her desk looking at a blank page was suddenly becoming one.

She had been tasked to write those many summers ago by a sullen looking Kosan and his henchmen.  There was no harsh visage now before her, only the brightness of a July afternoon and Kiri singing of sacrifice in the background.

But there would be no new remorse today. Only felicity, and wonder, and hopefully another story on the top of a best seller list.

Helena  looked at the journal again, smiling softly as she heard the door to their room open and close.  Sighing as familiar hands sifted through her dark hair.

 

“Hello my love,” Myka’s warm voice took over as Floria’s faded.

The tale that needed to be told would come forth soon. (She was HG Wells after all.) 

But that would be saved for another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At some point I will create some sort of index for this beast as well so that all of the mini-series will be easier to find. 
> 
> Thanks again!


End file.
